A Different Path
by FrogtownStamper
Summary: What if Harm had walked away after the end of 'Back in the Saddle', leaving JAG behind for a different path. A Warning: some chapters are a little dark, which is why this is rated M.
1. Chapter 1

Standard Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine, I'm just taking them out to play. Not profiting from their usage, other than that of my own personal enjoyment. Hope that you enjoy too.

October 27, 2003

Grace Aviation – Blacksburg, Virginia

1912 Eastern

Harm had spent a long time thinking after his talk with Admiral Chegwidden, thinking about what he wanted out of life compared to what he had now. And as he walked and thought, he came to realize that except for a desire to serve his country, there wasn't anything that he didn't like about his life now. Just as he had told the Admiral, he liked his boss, didn't have to wear a suit and tie and he put in his hours. Plus, there was the flying and while he found a sense of fulfillment in the law, flying was in his blood.

Now, he found himself back in front of the hanger owned by Grace Aviation. All of the planes had been pushed inside and the large door was closed. However, Harm could see a light coming from where the office was located. Thinking that perhaps Mattie's father was working inside, he went to the side door and pulled. Inside, he careful made his way towards the office, calling out as he neared.

"Mr. Johnson?"

Now, however, Harm could see into the office and realized that it was Mattie sitting at the desk. Her head had come up when he'd called out and she now turned in her chair, a certain sadness playing at her features as she faced him.

"You're here to tell me you're going back to work for that mean, old man," Mattie said bluntly.

"No."

"Then why are you here?"

"I was walking past on my way to my bike when I saw the light. I had hoped it was your dad," Harm said, watching her face. She was good, he gave her that, but he could see the fear in her eyes. "Mattie, how come I've never met your dad?"

"He was driving the night my mom was killed in the accident. He'd been drinking and he hasn't stopped since, as far as I know," Mattie replied.

"Where is he?"

"Don't know, don't care."

"How do you take care of yourself?" Harm asked.

"I've got Grace Aviation, it pays the bills," Mattie said.

"And what happens when he comes back."

"He's not coming back, not after what he did."

"And when the FAA or Children's Services find out. Because they will, you know," Harm told her.

"You going to tell?" Mattie asked, afraid of the answer.

"No. But what I will do is look after you, until we can arrange for me to be your legal guardian. Part of that means you need to go back to school."

"I know everything I need to know already."

"Somehow, I doubt that very much," Harm told her. "I'll bet you don't know how to fly."

Mattie's eyes lit up at the implication of the words.

"Come on, Mattie. Let's get dinner, then tomorrow we can start planning this out."

Mattie turned off the office light, but turned on a row of the hanger lights. Once they had reached the door and Harm had opened it, she turned those off as well. After making certain the hanger was locked up for the night, she got into the truck. Harm wasn't exactly pleased with the idea, but she'd either have to drive herself or he'd have to drive the truck and then come back here to get his bike, meaning she'd still end up driving at some point. This seemed to be the best solution all around.

October 28, 2003

JAG Headquarters – Falls Church, Virginia

0722 Eastern

Harm had decided to get things over with, rather than letting the matter drag out. This had an added benefit of not giving himself any time to second guess the choice that he had made. So, this morning had seen him dress in a tan colored suit, with matching tie and white shirt. In the inside pocket of his coat he carried a letter which gave his decision in plain language. He was going to leave the letter with the duty officer downstairs, who would see that it was delivered to the Admiral.

Fate had other ideas, however, as Harm happened to arrive at the same time as Admiral Chegwidden did today. The older officer took in the appearance of Rabb and mentally sighed. The man's choice was obvious.

"Commander," AJ started to say before remembering their words from the other day. "Sorry, force of habit."

"Admiral, I came by to ask that you don't have my commission reinstated. That part of my life is over," Harm told him.

"Join me, Mister Rabb."

Harm was left with little choice but to follow the Admiral upstairs and through the bullpen to the older man's office. Only when the door was closed did AJ speak again.

"Have you really thought this through, because this is an offer I don't intend to make a second time. You're what, two maybe three years from having your twenty and retirement benefits, not to mention a job that's certainly more important the crop dusting."

"I've considered all of those things. I've also considered something else as well."

"And that is?" AJ asked.

"A question for you, actually. If the whole Imes mess hadn't arisen, would you have offered to get my commission reinstated?" Harm asked in turn, watching the Admiral's face and though the other man tried to hide it, the truth was there to be seen. "I thought not. You were glad to be rid of me when I resigned my commission and only the current crisis facing this office has you coming to me. So, thank you, but no thank you."

For his part, AJ could hear the finality of the words and reluctantly accepted the letter that Harm held out, before shaking the outstretched hand.

December 24, 2003

Roberts' Residence – Alexandria, Virginia

1854 Eastern

Bud and Harriet had invited the whole JAG Ops staff over for refreshments before the Christmas Eve services that Chaplain Turner was performing that evening. So, in addition to Mac and Admiral Chegwidden, Petty Officer Coates and Commander Turner were also in attendance, as was the newest member of the staff, Major McBurney. Admiral Chegwidden had been somewhat reluctant to choose another Marine as the replacement for Commander Imes, but after reviewing several dozen candidates for the posting, the man had been the most qualified.

Still, there were significant problems with the overall dynamic of the office. Commander Turner could scarcely conceal his contempt for Lieutenant Roberts, while Major McBurney was distant from the entire office staff. As for Mac, she and Turner spoke only as needed. The Admiral had seen all of this and tried his best to get the staff past the issues, to no avail. Turner blamed Bud for his reputation being damaged, while Mac's issues with the Commander were unknown. McBurney was another matter entirely, with the whole office being suspicious of the man who'd almost put Harm in prison.

So, this gathering was proving to be uncomfortable at best. Yet, because the Admiral was in attendance, the rest of the personnel felt the occasion was a duty call. Meaning that there wasn't an individual amongst them who was going to leave before their commanding officer, even if it meant spending a few hours in an almost silent room, save for some Christmas music that Harriet had intended to be only background noise for the party.

Eventually, Bud, Harriet and Mac found themselves next to each other, creating a group that at least would talk to one another.

"This is a nice party, Harriet," Mac told her, trying to be gracious.

"It's a disaster, Colonel," Harriet replied with a sad smile.

"That's not your fault, though."

"Maybe. But, I still wish it was like it was when the Commander was still at JAG."

"Harriet, he's obviously moved on and we should too," Bud told his wife.

"Just because he's moved on doesn't mean we're no longer his friends," Harriet said in a huff.

"I take it you haven't heard from him either," Mac said.

"No, Ma'am."

"The last time I spoke with him was during the Imes case, Ma'am," Bud said. "I've tried calling his telephone, but the number has been disconnected. Harriet and I have even stopped by his loft, but he's either not home or not answering."

"Yeah, that's what I've found too."

"Maybe Mr. Webb…." Harriet started to say before Bud hushed her.

"Somehow I doubt Clay would go for that, especially since Harm's out of the Navy and there's no sign of foul play involved," Mac said. "Besides, Clay and I have been having our own problems lately."

Bud decided, wisely, to move away so that Mac and Harriet could talk. Besides, his leg had been bothering him a little lately, so he could use the chance to find a seat for a little while.

"Ma'am, what's the problem between you and Mister Webb?" Harriet asked.

"He was offered a desk job at Langley, one that would have been as close to a nine to five position as I could have hoped for. Clay didn't even discuss it with me before he turned it down. He's focused on finishing his recovery and getting back out into the field."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"What makes it even worse is that he's started to drink, not a lot but certainly more than he used to," Mac told her. Despite the difference in their ranks, Mac looked on Bud and Harriet as true friends, her only real friends now that Harm had vanished.

"Have you asked him about seeing a doctor, Ma'am?" Harriet asked.

"He says there isn't a problem and I'm not sure whether my pushing the issue would make things better or worse."

Realizing that there was little else she could say, Harriet settled for laying a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder for a moment before moving off. The boys were upstairs watching a movie, but she felt the need to check on them just the same. For her part, Mac decided that she'd had enough of the evening. Not particularly caring that she was the first to leave, she found her coat and headed outside. The light snow that had been coming all day was finally stopping, but the roads looked anything but clear. Days like this made her less than happy with her choice of the Corvette. If Clay had been able to join her, they could have at least come in his car rather than hers.

The Burnett Residence – La Jolla, California

1712 Pacific/ 2012 Eastern

Harm was sitting on the patio, a bottle of beer in his hand with a pair of others in an ice bucket on the little table next to him. The last month had sucked a lot of life out of him, leaving him worn down. The mess with Mattie had been just the beginning. Once Children's Services had gotten involved, they had placed her with a family while they tried to track down her father. Harm had petitioned for guardianship of the teen, only to have charges brought against him for suspected child abuse and sexual relations with a minor. The very fact that those allegations had been raised, despite being almost instantly disproved, had been enough for the judge hearing his petition to categorically deny it and also forbid him from having any further contact with Mattie.

With that order, Harm had also found himself out of a job, since Mattie was Grace Aviation for the time being. He had also been compelled to make new arrangements for the storage of his Stearman as well. Now it was in a hanger at an airfield in Manassas, Virginia, which did make it easier to reach than it had been in Blacksburg. If he had the money to fly, that is, which right now he really didn't. Oh, he'd managed to save a fair amount while he'd been in the Navy and almost all of the money he'd made while working for the CIA. Still, he knew he'd have to be careful with that money until he decided on what to do next with his life.

The next blow to come had been his Grandma Sarah, who had passed away at the beginning of the month. Even though she'd been almost 90, it had still come as something of a shock. The owner of a neighboring farm, Mr. Winters, had stopped over after not seeing any smoke coming from her chimney. The one thing her neighbors had long grown accustomed to was the smoke from her wood-fired kitchen stove in the mornings, when Sarah would get up to start fixing her breakfast. That sight was as much a signal of the new day as the rooster crowing.

The neighbor who had gone to check on her found Sarah in her rocker in the front room, her bible resting in her lap. When he'd called to tell Harm, he said it looked like she'd passed on peacefully, possibly during an afternoon nap the previous day. Thankfully, Sarah had been more prepared for this eventuality that her grandson, so that by the time Harm arrived in Belleville the funeral home had already prepared the body and posted a death notice in the local papers.

Harm had spent the week of the visitation and funeral out at the farm. Both Frank and Trish had elected to find a hotel in town, leaving him to say his goodbyes in his own way. During the years he'd been married to Trish, Frank had visited the farm on many occasions and always been warmly welcomed by Sarah, yet he could never escape the feeling that he was intruding. That, but for Harm Senior being shot down, he would never have been there in the first place.

For Trish, there were similar feelings. After that horrible Christmas in 1969, the bond that had connected the two woman had been damaged. Harm Junior was their only remaining link and Trish made certain that her son spent as much time as possible with his grandmother. Yet, she could sense a certain disappointment from Sarah when she had remarried to Frank, putting further emotional distance between the two women. So, while Trish too had visited on many occasions, her welcome had always been slightly less warm than it had been when Harm Senior had still been alive.

Sarah's estate had been remarkably simple, with Harm being her only living relative outside of a few cousins. So, after some small bequests to them, the bulk of the estate passed to him. The farm and some investments, plus her life insurance and a little cash. The same neighbor who had discovered her body was also tenant farming her lands, sharing the profits with her. Harm, who had almost no idea about farming, was perfectly willing to leave the arrangement alone for the time being.

Those dual losses were the reason Harm had decided to spend this Christmas with his mother and Frank. Besides, there was nothing compelling keeping him back east. He could honestly say there was actually nothing compelling keeping him anywhere anymore. It was a simple fact that not having to work was giving him way too much time to think and drink, he decided as he lifted the beer to his lips.

"Darling, are you getting ready soon for the party this evening?" Trish asked from the doorway to the house. In the few days he'd been staying here, she had noticed many things wrong with her son, beginning with the fact that he seemed to spend all of his time just sitting on the patio drinking beer and ending with the fact that he didn't seem to care that that was all he was doing with his life now.

"Sure, Mom. Give me a moment, alright?"

Trish started to close the door, only to watch Harm empty the bottle in a long swallow. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she took a sad look at her son. She could only hope for his sake that something changed soon.

Harm walked into the house a moment later, putting the remaining beers in the refrigerator and depositing the empty bottles in the recycling container before making his way to his bedroom. There, he opened the closet and looked at the two suits that he had brought out to California with him. After a couple moments of thought, he selected the tan suit. This he matched with a light gray shirt and tan tie. Satisfied, he went into the bathroom and quickly showered. The beard he'd started growing was presentable, he saw in the mirror as he toweled dry and splashed on a little cologne.

Frank and Trish were waiting in the living room when Harm came out.

"That's a nice suit, Harm," Frank said as he stood to shake his stepson's hand.

"Thanks, Frank. You're looking good," Harm told him.

"It's all your mother's doing, really."

"Nonsense," Trish said with a smile. "The suits I make you buy wouldn't look as good if you didn't take care of yourself by golfing every morning."

"Well, maybe I can talk you into joining me, Harm," Frank said.

"Maybe next time I'm out this way, Frank. My flight back leaves on the twenty-sixth," Harm told them.

"So soon, darling."

"I can't exactly stay unemployed forever, can I?"

"Have you thought about moving back home? I'm sure you could find something out here," Trish said, with something in her tone suggesting she had some ideas in that regard.

"I could, but then what do I do about the farm? And then there's moving Sarah out here, along with the rest of my things," Harm said, as if that explained everything.

"Well, Harm, there are moving companies that could see to your cars and possessions. And you could always take a week off and fly Sarah across country," Frank told him. "As for the farm, isn't Mister Winters already farming the land? You could ask him about taking care of the house for you, too."

"And your grandmother really trusted the Winters, darling," Trish put in. "I know she wouldn't want the farm sold, not while there was still family alive, but I doubt she'd expect you to give up your life just to move there and live."

Both Frank and Trish could sense Harm was getting a little annoyed, so they left things there as everyone went out to the car for the drive to the country club and the Christmas Eve party they had. What neither of them knew was that Harm might have been getting annoyed, but he was also sensing possibilities in the suggestion. Maybe something like that was just what he needed to get out of his downward spiral. Make a clean break from the past, just disappear and not look back. No more Navy, no more JAG, no more to the people he'd once called friends. A fresh start, however, would also mean avoiding La Jolla as much as possible. Too many people knew where his mother lived and it would be easy to track him down there.

As the car approached the country club, Harm took a silent inventory of his skills. He was a pilot, including both piston and jet engine qualified. He was a lawyer, accredited with the state bars of Pennsylvania and Virginia. Other than that, he was a naval officer, with a basic knowledge of firearms and tactics. Now that he was no longer in the navy that left either flying or the law as the only things he was trained for. So, he could either find a job as a lawyer or find a job flying.

When the car stopped in the drive of the club, Harm got out and opened his mother's door for her. While he was doing this, Frank was turning his keys over to the valet. It didn't surprise Harm to see that much of the crowd was closer to his mother's age than to his, given that they had planned on attending the party long before Harm had let them know about his visit. So, for the first hour, he was introduced to their friends, who were all delighted to see him or pretended to be.

It was only after dinner that he began to mingle more or less on his own. Or rather, he was working his way closer to the bar in the back of the ballroom. Others had apparently developed similar ideas, judging by the small crowd that seemed to be gathering near it. Still, his height held an advantage in situations like this and Harm was able to make his way closer. Just as he reached it, he was jostled. Harm turned to apologize when he found himself looking in to the most stunning pair of green eyes he'd ever before seen. Their overall effect was to render him speechless, which the petite redhead noticed with a grimace.

"I'm sorry, Miss," Harm was finally able to say.

"Well, I can't see why. After all, I'm the one who collided with you," she said tartly.

"Still, it is polite to excuse one's self, isn't it?"

"Only if the collision could have been avoided. In this crowd, bumping into someone is just about inevitable, I would think."

Harm was slightly taken aback by the forceful tone coming from the woman, yet also drawn to it at the same time.

"Perhaps we could start over, Miss…." Harm said.

"Perhaps not, Mister Rabb," she replied as she turned back toward the bar, leaving behind a slightly frozen Harm.

"So, she shot you down too," came a man's voice from behind him. Harm turned to see a man about his age, holding a whiskey glass in his hand and a smile on his lips.

"Not certain I would call it that," Harm told him. "I don't think I was even airborne."

"That's Doctor Lawson for you. She works fast, I'll grant you."

"Doctor Lawson?"

"Yeah, Doctor Rebecca Lawson. I got that far at least, although my parents know hers, so I had a bit of an advantage," the man told Harm.

"How did she know my name?" Harm asked.

"Most of us know about you. Your mother is a rival to ZNN when it comes to spreading the news, especially where you're concerned. Plus, there was that rather spectacular footage of you landing that big plane on the carrier, too."

Harm had the good grace to look a little sheepish at that, as they neared the bar. Harm settled for a glass of draft beer, while the other man took another whiskey.


	2. Chapter 2

December 30, 2003

Rabb Farm – Belleville, Pennsylvania

1017 Eastern

Harm had driven up to the farm last night. His plans for the day involved doing some general cleaning of the inside of the house, along with sorting through his grandmother's belongings. Things that were special to the family would be stored, while clothes and such would be donated to the local Salvation Army thrift store. If his memory served, he doubted that it would take more than a couple of days to take care of everything.

Besides accomplishing those things, he was also up here to think about his future. Perhaps everything that had happened was for a reason. His grandmother certainly would have thought so. The loss of her husband followed by that of her son, both while flying in the Navy, had more deeply connected her to her faith. God had a plan for everything and everyone, if you were only willing to trust in him.

Harm was of a different mind. It was not that he didn't believe in God, but rather that he wasn't prepared to simply accept things as "God's Will" or "God's Plan". Man controlled his own destiny, by being willing to fight for it and that was something he'd come to learn from his father. After all, the man had managed to escape from the KGB inside the Soviet Union, refusing to submit. As that thought formed, so did another. Grandma Sarah had never been one to submit to anyone either, except for God.

A knock came from the front door. Harm wasn't excepting anyone, since no one knew that he was here. Also, all of Grandma Sarah's friends had already heard of her passing, so it wouldn't be any of them. Then a stray thought crossed his mind and he went to the door as another knock came. Pushing the curtain aside, Harm looked out to see Mr. Winters standing there. Opening the door, he stood back as the older man opened the storm door and came inside.

"You had me a little worried this morning, Harmon," he said as he extended his hand. "I looked out and saw the smoke and thought there was a ghost about."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Winters," Harm replied. "I got here a little late last night and didn't want to wake anyone up by calling and telling them I was here."

"Well, I don't really see it as any of our business anyways. I mean, it's your house and all. So who are we to tell you when you can come and go?"

"That may be, but it would still be neighborly of me to let you know the house wasn't currently vacant before I scared anyone."

"Are you going to be back for a while, now?" Mr. Winters asked.

"I don't know. Right now, I'm simply looking for some peace and quiet," Harm replied.

"Well, you'll certainly get plenty of that around here. What are you doing now?"

"For work, you mean," Harm said and after seeing his neighbor nod went on. "Nothing. I'm out of the Navy and my last job fell through, so I'm at loose ends at the moment."

"Now, don't think I'm putting my nose in where it don't belong, but my daughter Pamela works at the University in State College. She told me that they are looking for faculty in the law school there. It's only about an hour's drive from here to there and it would mean the old house wouldn't be empty anymore," Mr. Winters told him.

"And this daughter of yours wouldn't just happen to be single, would she?"

"Dear God, no. Pam and her husband have been married almost 25 years now. Mind you, she is about your age and all. No, Harmon, your grandmother was the matchmaker in these parts, not me. Still, it is funny how she succeeded with so many other people but never with you. Maybe her magic didn't work on family."

Harm had little choice but to laugh with the older man. No, Grandma Sarah's matchmaking skill had never caught him. But it may also have been how infrequently he had been around for her to try them on.

"I'll definitely keep that in mind, Mr. Winters," Harm told him.

"Don't think too long, though. The next semester starts in a week," Mr. Winters said with a smile.

"Well, then. I suppose I could drive up there today and take a look around."

"Then I've achieved something. Believe me, Harmon, Sarah would be mighty pleased to know you'd come back home. And now that I know it's just you here, I can go home and tell the wife. She was fixing to call the sheriff and have him come out."

"Thanks, Mr. Winters. Both for checking on the farm as well as the information about that job," Harm said as he held his hand out. Mr. Winters shook the hand as he left the house and went back down to his truck. After carefully turning around in the snowy area near the house, he drove back down the drive while Harm closed the door and went into the kitchen to fix breakfast.

Penn State University – State College, Pennsylvania

1443 Eastern

Harm was slowly walking the campus, following a map he'd gotten from the kiosk near his parking lot. Even though classes were not currently in session, the paths were all well cleared. Meaning that when he eventually reached the building housing the human resources department of the university, he was able to do so with dry shoes and clean pants. This was good, considering that he was wearing the only suit he'd brought with him from Washington. He had intended it for church on Sunday, but felt it would serve for his mission today.

"May I help you, Sir," a younger woman asked him from the counter near a door that presumably led to offices for the staff working here.

"I hope so, Miss. I was told that the University has a vacancy for a law professor and I was wondering who I might need to speak with to be considered for the position," Harm told her.

"That would be the dean of the law school. I'll call and let his secretary know that someone is coming. May I have your name?"

"It's Harmon Rabb."

"Thank you, Sir," she said before telling him which building he needed to go to.

Harm nodded his head before exiting the office and making his way back outside. Checking the map once again, he pulled his overcoat tighter around him as he walked back the way he had come. A bit of wind was cutting around the campus, making it feel even colder. By the time he reached the law school's building, his cheeks were red as was his nose. Going inside, he checked a directory posted near the door, looking for the correct office. Seeing it was on the third floor, Harm elected to take the stairs, hoping the exercise would help warm him up a little.

"Ah, Mister Rabb, I presume," an older woman said from the desk when he opened the office door.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Dean Trumbull will be with you in a moment. Do you happen to have a copy of your resume?"

"Of course," Harm told her as he opened the briefcase he was carrying and removed one. He'd been lucky that the briefcase was still in the Lexus from his last trip to Belleville and the reading of his grandmother's will. The secretary took it and went into the inner office for a brief moment before returning to her desk.

Taking a seat, he relaxed as best as he could while he waited for the dean. A couple of calls came in while he sat there, then the inner office door opened and out stepped an older man. He was almost as tall as Harm, yet even thinner than him. His full head of gray hair was meticulously combed, while his eyes were a greyish-green color.

"Mr. Rabb, pleased to meet you. Won't you come in?" Dean Trumbull said with a slight smile.

"Thank you, Dean Trumbull."

Once the two men were in the office, the dean returned to his seat behind the desk while motioning Harm to one of the two in front of the desk.

"So, I understand you are interested in the faculty position that has come open?"

"Yes, Sir, I am."

"Your resume speaks fairly well of you, Mr. Rabb. I see you have both your Juris Doctor and Master of Laws degrees," Dean Trumbull said.

"Yes, Sir. I went to Georgetown for my J.D., graduating fifth in my class, then completed my LL. M.," Harm told him.

"So I understand. The dean there also said you were second in your class, despite also being a serving naval officer."

"I was assigned to the Navy's Judge Advocate General Corps, Sir."

"Which would suggest you're proficient in criminal prosecution and defense strategies. And your specialized field of study was International Law?" the dean asked.

"Yes, with emphasis on the Law of War and the Law of the Sea," Harm told him. "I have some knowledge of treaty negotiation and government policy, from my time in the Navy."

"I see. Your knowledge of the Law of War would be especially useful, if we were to choose you, Mister Rabb. However, I am curious as to why you're not still in the Navy?"

Harm was forced to pause and really think here. The whole affair in Paraguay was classified and the dean clearly didn't have a need to know. But he also knew that his answer to the question could be the tipping point in the interview.

"I resigned my commission in order to help a friend in need," was the answer that Harm finally settled on.

Little did Harm know that the answer was almost the exact same one that Dean Trumbull had gotten from Admiral Chegwidden when the dean had called him. The Admiral had also said that Harm was one of the better legal minds that Chegwidden had encountered during his time at JAG and would be an asset to Penn State if they did hire him. The only warning was about Harm's lacking as a team player. Well, the dean knew countless good lawyers just like that and didn't see it as a real problem.

Rabb Farm – Belleville, Pennsylvania

1941 Eastern

Harm was settled in on the couch of the living room, a stack of papers in his lap as he took a drink from the beer bottle before putting it back on the coffee table. Tomorrow, he would drive back to Washington and close up his loft. Clothes and books would be loaded into the Lexus, while the refrigerator needed to be emptied and the furniture covered. His Stearman would remain in storage until the spring, when he would make another trip down and fly it to one of the airports near Belleville. Probably University Park Airport, near State College.

As for his Corvette, that too would remain in storage until the spring. Then, he would hire a company to haul it from Washington to the farm. How the sports car would do on the roads near the farm was of some concern, but the alternatives were just leaving it in storage or selling it and Harm couldn't bring himself to do either of those.

The fireplace was serving to add to the warmth of the house. One of the many things Harm had never been able to understand about his grandmother was the fact that she had natural gas service to the house, which is what fueled the furnace, but still had the old wood-fueled stove in the kitchen. That was something he definitely intended to change now that he would be living here. That old stove would be replaced with a modern one, something more efficient and definitely less labor intensive.

Picking up his reading material, he quickly found his place once again and continued. All of the papers were from the University. First was the schedule of classes he would be teaching, along with a roster of the students in each class. Then, there was the course objectives and the recommended class materials for him to assign the students. Lastly came syllabuses for the classes, giving him an idea of what the University felt was the path for the classes to take.

Dean Trumbull had been helpful in a number of ways, but had ultimately told Harm that he would have to find his own method of teaching the courses assigned. Looking at his schedule, Harm was pleased to see that he had two classes of criminal law, one class on the law of the sea and one class on the law of war. That, he thought, would be more than enough to keep him busy, between lecturing and grading assignments, and busy was something he needed right now.

December 31, 2003

Harmon Rabb's Loft – North of Union Station

1239 Eastern

Harm had left at the break of dawn for the drive down. As luck would have it, his timing was almost perfect for missing the worst of the morning traffic around Washington. Still, the drive had taken more than four hours to complete, along with a stop at an office supply store. There, he picked up a number of boxes for the move.

The very first thing that he did was take his bags from the closet and pack them almost to bursting with his clothes, then carry them down to the Lexus. These he put in the back seat on the driver's side. After this, he packed up his books and photos and carried the boxes to the car. The wall art he left for later, not certain which of the pieces he might take if any. Once that was done, he went through the kitchen. Most of it he left alone, except for a few select items that he hadn't seen at the farm, including his microwave. Last came the emptying of the refrigerator. Between the trip to California and then the farm, almost everything inside was spoilt and simply needed to be thrown out.

With that done, Harm set about his last tasks. He turned off the water supply to the loft and then drained the small hot water tank. Next was lowering the thermostat to fifty five degrees, which would save him money on heating bills. It was also the reason he'd shut off the water, to make certain there would be no frozen pipes. He also drained the lines to the faucets in the bathroom and kitchen, then left the faucets open. As a final step, he covered the furniture that remained with the extra sheets for his bed.

Finally done, he took a long last look around. The loft had been his home for the better part of seven years. Now, however, it only served as a reminder of the past he was leaving behind.

Harmon Rabb's Loft – North of Union Station, Washington, DC

2057 Eastern

Mac had just finished pounding on the door a third time, wondering where Harm could possibly be. However, without a phone to call, her only option was to keep stopping by the loft and hope that he was finally home. It was at that moment that inspiration struck. The spare key that she knew Harm kept for emergencies. While the present situation might not quite qualify as an emergency, she began looking for it.

It took her almost ten minutes to find the hiding spot and then she was unlocking the door. What confronted her was enough to stop her in her tracks. The sheer emptiness of the place spoke of moving, rather than reorganization or even cleaning. Moving into the kitchen area, she saw that the refrigerator was cracked open and empty, as well as being unplugged. Trying the faucet, she found the water was off as well.

So, this was how he'd chosen to leave them, Mac thought as she sat down on the covered couch. No words of farewell, just gone. Now she understood, in a way, what he'd meant by moving on from JAG.


	3. Chapter 3

January 5, 2004

Criminal Law – Penn State University

0930 Eastern

Harm stood at the front of the classroom surveying his new students. He well remembered from his college days that the first class or two were the worst, because there was relatively little teaching going on. Mostly, it was going over the course as a big outline, covering the syllabus and when the teacher would be available for office hours. Still, this was the only real way to make the students aware of what the expectations were in the class, so it was a necessary evil.

"Good morning. I trust everyone got here safely, notwithstanding the snow from last night," Harm said after a final look at the clock. "My name is Harmon Rabb and I'll be your instructor this semester for Criminal Law. Copies of the syllabus are available on the front table, make certain you get one after class if you did not take one on your way in."

"About me. I graduated from the Naval Academy with a B.S. in Aeronautical Engineering in 1985. I got my J.D. from Georgetown in 1994 and my LL.M. in 1995, specializing in International Law. I served as a Judge Advocate in the Navy from 1995 until 2003. I have served as the prosecutor or defense counsel in over 200 cases, covering almost everything imaginable from stolen property to murder and espionage."

"As for the course. As the name says, we will be covering criminal law. We will examine defense strategies, such as self-defense and insanity. We will principally focus on interpreting criminal statutes and how to utilize them," Harm told them.

"One comment. As I was talking, I only saw a few of you taking notes. Bad idea. As a lawyer, a pen and legal pad will be your best friends. You need to take notes about almost everything, not just because those notes are important for the case you're working on, but also those notes will help with establishing the hours to be billed a client."

The students all laughed at that comment, but all of them now had notebooks or pads out. Now that he saw those, Harm started going over the syllabus for the class. He made certain that he covered the important dates, not just for the class but also for the university. As he talked, he made certain to keep one eye on the clock. This helped him set a tempo to the class, so that he could get everything covered with a couple of minutes to spare for questions from the students.

Whiskers – Penn State University

1337 Eastern

Harm had come here for lunch simply out of the fact that it was the only place he knew of on campus to eat. If there had been more time before starting here, he would have definitely done more research. Still, there was nothing to complain about as far as the food was concerned. He'd selected a bowl of French onion soup and a Caesar salad, along with a small pot of coffee.

Now, he was simply enjoying a moment savoring the last of his coffee. He had another hour before his next class and was silently debating the merits of exploring the campus in that short amount of time. His contemplation was disturbed when the chair across from his was pulled out and someone sat down.

"Are you following me now, Mister Rabb," came a soft, yet harsh demand.

"Actually, Doctor Lawson, I just came here for lunch," Harm said reasonably, curiously interested in the meaning behind the woman's words.

"And I suppose it is just a coincidence that you happen to be at this university?"

"Well, I did just start as an associate professor of law."

"Why here? I'm quite certain that there are universities in California and every other state for that matter," Rebecca said.

"Why California, Doctor?" Harm asked.

"Well, isn't that why you were back home?"

"No, I just decided to spend the holidays with my mom and Frank, rather than rattling around alone."

"That answers why you're not in California, but it still doesn't explain why you're here," she said. "My parents said you lived in Washington."

"Yes, but I recently inherited a farm in Belleville. So, being unemployed at the time, I decided to go there for a while. Do some thinking. A neighbor told me that the University was looking for someone to teach law and that's how I ended up here," Harm told her.

"So, nobody at the party told you about poor Doctor Lawson, all alone at Penn State."

"No. All I heard was your name and that you were a doctor. I just assumed that you lived in San Diego or La Jolla."

"Not in years," Rebecca said with a laugh. "No, it's nice to visit, but…."

"You just don't feel like you belong there," Harm told her with a smile. Seeing a returned grin, he continued. "I feel the same way most of the time. But there are times when I feel a little guilty for not being closer to my mom and Frank."

"I know the feeling. Ever since I first came east for medical school, I've felt this distance growing between myself and the rest of the family. Even when I visit for the holidays, it's different than it used to be."

"I think that would be true to an extent even if you had stayed in California your whole life, Doctor. It is part of growing up, I guess."

"Rubbish," Rebecca said tartly. "My sisters are still very close to my parents. I can tell every time I'm home, because all I hear about is 'Jenny's husband just got a promotion at work and her oldest made the honor roll and Stacy and her husband just got back from a cruise to Alaska'. They never ask about my work or even act interested in it when it is mentioned."

Harm couldn't think of anything to say to that that wouldn't come across as patronizing, so he wisely choose to remain silent.

"And good heavens, every time I'm back home and happen to see your mother, it's 'Harm did this and Harm did that'. Not to mention the moaning about you're not being settled down and having kids yet. Like she's hoping that since I live out here, I might rescue you from ending up a lonely old man."

"Between my mother and grandmother, I don't know who was worse with that. Although, my mother was the less subtle of the pair. I was visiting my mother once and she remarked about my partner at work, about how she was quite the girl."

"Ouch! Although I will say that is better than my family's 'Don't you think it's about time you settled down and had some kids' comments."

Harm and Rebecca just looked at each other for a moment before laughing at the expectations of their various parents.

"Yes, I'll give you that," Harm told her with a smile. "Though I'd say you have a few years left. After all, you can't be more than 35."

"36, actually. How'd you…."

"Guess? Well, you said you're a doctor, so I figured you were 22 when you got your bachelor's degree, probably 25 when you got your master's and then say 29 for your doctorate. I didn't think you just got it, otherwise you'd probably have had everyone calling you Doctor. That led me to add a few years and settle on 35."

"Not bad work, Mr. Rabb," Rebecca said. "But why not older than that?"

"Not enough lines on the face or gray in the hair, Doctor Lawson," Harm said with a grin.

A glance at his watch told Harm it was time for him to make his way to his next class.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go. I'd like to talk with you some more," Harm said as he wrote down his new cell phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to her

"Perhaps," is all Rebecca said to that as she gathered up her coat.

Harm decided not to push, not wanting to do anything that might end what could perhaps be the beginnings of a friendship. He would let her decided on the pace that things took from here on. At least for a while.

Rabb Farm – Belleville, Pennsylvania

1912 Eastern

Harm was in the kitchen, doing the day's dishes after finishing his dinner. A dishwasher was another of the modern conveniences that Grandma Sarah had never brought to the farm. If there was work to be done, then by God she would do it and not some machine. Harm couldn't necessarily disagree with that philosophy, as he knew that being active was important for long-term health. Besides, his Stearman was much the same, with its lack of GPS and autopilot meaning the pilot did all the actual flying rather than relying on a bunch of circuits and switches.

Putting the last of the dishes in the drying rack, he went out to the living room and setting in the old rocker by the fire. Taking his book from the little table beside the chair, he found his place again and resumed reading. Upon being assigned his classes, Harm had spent almost all of his free time going through the various textbooks assigned. This way, when he assigned readings or cases to study, he would already know the material himself.

A knock at the door took him by surprise. Closing the book and setting it aside, he stood and walked to the front door. There, he turned on the light so that he could look out and see his visitor. The sight of three state police officers on his porch started Harm's heart racing. Driven by fear, he quickly opened the door.

"Harmon Rabb?" asked the older of the officers.

"Yes. Has something happened?"

"Mr. Rabb, we were sent here by the Montgomery Country Department of Child Protective Services."

"Something's happened to Mattie?" Harm asked.

"She's run away from her foster family. The woman I spoke with expressed a belief that you may know where she is or that she may have come here," the female office responded, as the three watched Harm's face intently.

"I haven't seen or spoken to Mattie since the day I moved my airplane from the hanger she owns, following my being ordered by the Montgomery County Family Court to sever all ties with her."

"So we understand. Still, you don't have any objection to us looking around?" the older officer said as he moved to enter the house.

"No, because I know she's not here. So, good ahead and look, just don't wreck the place," Harm said as he moved aside to let the officers in.

Once they were all inside, Harm closed the door and stood there. The older officer looked at the woman and nodded his head before making his way up the stairs. The third officer started his search in the parlor, while the woman remained behind keeping a watchful eye on Harm.

"I take it I should get used to your department invading my home every time Mattie runs away."

"What would you have us do, Mister Rabb? You have a connection to the girl, that can't just be ignored on our part, can it?"

"I also haven't spoken to her since late November. She doesn't even know where I live anymore, since I moved here after I last had contact with her. She doesn't even have my new telephone number," Harm told the officer.

"And you're not even remotely concerned that something bad might have happened to her?" the woman asked.

"Oh, on the contrary. I'm very concerned. I've seen first-hand what can happen to a child on the streets and I don't wish that on Mattie in the least. But the courts decided that I wasn't welcome in her life, that despite everything in my background I was more of a danger to her than simply dropping her in the system and washing their hands of her."

The officer could sense a bitterness in Harm that made her suspect that if the girl did show up here, Harm was unlikely to call the authorities. Her suspicions, however, were dead wrong. What she didn't know was that Harm was a sworn officer of the court and would honor the obligation that came along with it. So, while he would hate himself for doing it, if Mattie by some miracle did manage to find him, his first call would have to be to the authorities.

By this time, the other two officers had each completed their searches of the house. Neither of them had found any evidence of someone other than Mister Rabb living in the house at the moment. The older officer had seem a few boxes of clothes, obvious being packed away, that he assumed belonged to Sarah Rabb. He had lived in the area all his life and had known the older woman well.

"We're sorry to have bothered you, Mr. Rabb," the older officer said. "If you do hear from Miss Johnson, please let us know immediately."

"Of course, Officer," was all Harm said as he opened the front door and showed the three of them out. He left the front light on until they had reached their cars, then turned it off and locked the door. Still, he didn't move back to the living room so that he could resume his reading. Rather, he went into the kitchen and got a bottle of beer from the refrigerator. His mind couldn't stop thinking about Mattie, wondering where she was and if she was alright. Yet, he knew that going any further than wondering would be a dangerous path, as it would be ignoring a legal order to stay out of the teen's life.

Taking the beer with him, Harm went back to the living room and settled into the rocker. As he slowly rocked, he let his mind go, looking for a solution to the riddle.


	4. Chapter 4

January 7, 2004

Harmon Rabb's Office – Penn State University

0801 Eastern

Harm sat at his desk, drinking a cup of coffee he had brought with him from the farm in a thermos. Still being new, he was uncertain if there was a faculty lounge or break room in the building, so until he knew his was around better, he would settle for bringing his own. Besides, this was one way to be certain that he got his coffee the way he wanted it.

The drive up from the farm was nice, especially when compared with fighting the traffic in DC. No gridlocked beltway here, just a pleasant country drive that lasted just slightly longer than his old drive to Falls Church. Looking around his office, he could see the similarities between it and his old one at JAG HQ, just from where certain items resided. His model Stearman and old flight helmet were here, as was a small picture frame on the desk. Now, it held a picture of little AJ and Jimmy, taken last summer. Bud and Harriet had sent it to him, with it arriving the week he was in the Philippines for the CIA.

Harm leaned back in his chair and took another drink from his coffee, then turned to look out the window at the snow-covered landscape outside. This was one of the things he liked about Pennsylvania over both California and the District of Columbia. Snow in La Jolla was almost unthinkable, while snow in Washington was a major hassle without any real benefit. Here, however, you could actually enjoy the snow. How it covered the trees, turned benches into small hills if there was enough of it and just watching the children playing in it. Maybe next year, he'd invite Bud and Harriet to visit him at the farm and bring the kids so they could enjoy it. Once he had enough emotional distance from the past.

For now, however, he had work to do. So, he turned from the window and began writing down notes for the lectures he needed to give today. All too soon, the alarm on his desk rang to remind him that he needed to make his way to his first class of the day. Taking his briefcase and thermos with him, he put on his coat and left his office for the walk across campus.

Whiskers – Penn State University

1253 Eastern

Harm had come here once again for lunch, still uncertain of any other options. The quality of the food definitely wasn't going to send him looking for other choices, though. Still, he would eventually have to see what else was available. For today, he had gotten a house salad and bowl of broccoli and cheddar soup.

"I'll join Mr. Rabb, actually," came Rebecca's voice from behind him.

"Certainly, Ma'am," the hostess said.

"So, who's following whom today?" Harm asked teasingly as Rebecca took the seat opposite.

"I wasn't expecting you to be here again today."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Doctor."

Rebecca had the grace to look a little shamefaced as she realized how her words had sounded.

"Oh, I'm not saying it's a terrible thing that you are here. Just that I figured you'd be trying other restaurants in the area," Rebecca said quietly.

"Well, I don't really know the area, so I'll keep eating here until I have a chance to do some exploring," Harm told her.

The waitress arrived to take Rebecca's order, before leaving them alone once again.

"You do realize she probably thinks we're a couple," Rebecca said.

"If she only knew the truth," Harm replied with a grin, only to see Rebecca's eyes cloud over in anger at the perceived slight. "Mind you, I wouldn't exactly mind if this was a date," he hurriedly added.

"Nice save, Counselor."

"Thank you, Doctor."

They both looked at each other for a moment before lightly laughing.

"Why do we each seem to push the wrong buttons with each other?" Rebecca asked.

"I think that happens a lot when two people are trying to get to know one another," Harm told her. "We're discovering where the boundaries are and where the landmines lay."

"You mean like previous relationships that have hurt us?"

"That and more. Things that we're passionate about, both for and against."

"So, what are your landmines?" Rebecca asked.

"Oh, that depends on who you ask, probably," Harm said. "For me, I would have to say that my biggest is commitment in a relationship. I watched what my mother went through after my dad went missing and I never wanted to put someone else through that pain."

"What happened to your father, Harm?"

"He was shot down over North Vietnam on December 24, 1969."

"Does being out of the Navy change where you stand on commitment?"

"It was actually changing before I left the Navy. I had started to realize that you can't live your life in fear of something possibly happening. My dad's best friend survived Vietnam, being shot at over the Balkans and a few other close calls. The difference was purely luck," Harm said.

Rebecca just looked at the man across from her. He was so different from her, in so many ways. She'd been blessed with a normal family live, a father who worked a "regular" job and a mother who did the same. The only experience she had with death, on a personal level, was her grandmother passing when Rebecca was 20. As a psychiatrist, she had had patients die, but largely that was a case of the patient ceasing to take their medications or the medications failing to work properly. And while those deaths did affect her, it was different than a personal loss like Harm had suffered.

"Enough about me," Harm told her after a moment. "I'd like to learn more about you."

"Like what?" Rebecca asked.

"Start with the beginning and I'll tell you where to stop."

"Alright. I was born April 8, 1967 in La Jolla. Lived there until I went to the University of Wisconsin for pre-med, then did my medical school at Johns Hopkins. I'm a board certified psychiatrist, specializing in PTSD. I teach here as well as seeing patients at the VA Medical Center in Altoona."

"Sounds like you keep pretty busy," Harm said.

"Well, it's either that or sit around my apartment watching television while snacking on ice cream and chocolate. Besides, I happen to be good at what I do," Rebecca told him.

"So, you're not one of those people?"

"What people?"

"You know. 'Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach.'" Harm told her with a grin.

"I'd be a little careful about that, if I was you. After all, aren't you teaching now?" Rebecca asked, laughing lightly at the look on Harm's face.

"What do you like to do for fun? Other than torturing poor, unsuspecting men?"

"You mean that can't be the only thing I do for fun?"

"Very funny," Harm said.

"I thought so," Rebecca replied. "Seriously, though. I like watching old movies, reading mystery novels and taking nature hikes. You?"

"Well, I like to spend time flying when I can. I have an old Indian motorcycle that I ride, when the weather is nice. I've never taken a nature hike, but I do like to run for exercise."

"Was that your way of saying you'd like to go on a hike with me, Mister Rabb?"

"Possibly, Doctor," Harm replied.

"That would have to wait until spring, at least. It's too cold to go hiking now, not to mention the snow covers not only the trails but everything worth seeing as we're hiking," Rebecca told him.

The waitress finally returned with their lunches, stopping the conversation for the moment. Harm watched as Rebecca ate her Chef's salad and bowl of chicken noodle soup. For her part, Rebecca was surprised at how little Harm had ordered. As big as he was, she had assumed he would need more than that to fill him. Yet he seemed to eat like this was a normal lunch for him, rather than something he was eating as part of a diet.

The silence that existed while they ate wasn't uncomfortable, but like that which happened between two friends who saw no reason to make idle conversation just for the sake of noise. So they simply enjoyed their meals in short order, then waited for the waitress to clear the plates. Harm still had a few minutes before he needed to leave for his afternoon class, so he asked for a refill on his coffee. Rebecca placed her hand over her mug when the waitress returned with the pot.

"Do you have plans for the weekend, Mister Rabb?" Rebecca asked after the waitress left again.

"Nothing much, just a couple of things around the farmhouse that I want to get done eventually. Why, did you have a suggestion?" Harm asked.

"Actually, I was going to ask if you'd like to join me at the movies. There's a theater that runs classic movies on Saturdays."

Harm thought for a moment. It was true that he wanted to get the new stove for the kitchen, but that could wait a week if need be. Especially since the existing one did still work. Besides, he was finding that he enjoyed the company of Doctor Lawson. And anyways, if he spent the weekend at home, he'd probably only start drinking again and he knew that wasn't really good for him.

"That sounds like fun. Do you mind if we meet here on campus and drive there together. Or if you'd rather have separate cars, at least let me follow you? Like I said before, I don't know my way around town yet and wouldn't want to stand you up because I get lost somewhere along the way."

"That would be fine," Rebecca told him.

"What time do you want to meet?" Harm asked.

"How about 10:30? The first movie starts at noon, so that should give us plenty of time to get there."

"Then I'll see you in the parking lot at 10:30 on Saturday. Oh, and I think I should probably get your numbers in case something comes up and we have to cancel. You already have mine, but I'll give it to you again."

Harm took a card from his wallet and wrote his number on the back, crossing out the old numbers on the front of the card. He exchanged it for a card from Rebecca with her contact information on it. Then, unfortunately, it was time for him to leave for his class. After he left the table, Rebecca remained as her inner voice argued with her about asking a man she hardly knew on what amounted to a date. To her point of view, however, it wasn't actually a date because neither of them had used that term for it. It was simply two people going someplace together because they both wanted to.

Rabb Farm – Belleville, Pennsylvania

1952 Eastern

Harm sat in the rocker, enjoying another night in front of the fireplace. The magic of the gentle rocking was causing him to doze a little, which suited him just fine. The stereo was playing in the background, something classical from the local public broadcasting station. The silence was something that was taking a little getting used to, out here on the farm. Back in Washington, the sounds of the city had been such a constant companion that their absence was noticeable. Still, there were some definite benefits to living here.

The fire looked a little low, so Harm got out of the rocker and added another couple of pieces of wood. Once he was satisfied with everything, he sat back down and took a drink from his glass of water. Then, he picked up the old photo album he had found while packing up his grandmother's things. Flipping it open, he smiled at the pictures of his mom and dad. Several of them were of the whole family here at the farm, his father hold an infant Harm in his arms. Judging by how old he appeared to be, Harm figured they were taken in 1965. Seeing how happy they all appeared to be brought a wave of melancholy to him, as he reflected on everything his dad had missed.

In with the pictures were several pages of letters. Reading the first one, he saw they were from his father to Grandma Sarah.

"Dear Mom,

In keeping with my promise, here's a real letter. Not recorded words on tape, just pen to paper. Not much is happening right now, as we're transiting the Pacific. So it's just training missions and keeping our proficiency until we reach the Gulf of Tonkin. Then, the real work begins.

I'm sure you'll be happy to know that Tom Boone is still my wingman. When I told him I was writing you, he said to tell you thanks for letting him visit before we left and for the birthday cake. I've never known anyone to turn down your chocolate cake, Mom, and I think you've made a friend for life out of Tom. When we get back stateside, don't be surprised if he's on your doorstep as soon as he can reach Pennsylvania looking for another piece or two.

The Tico is a great ship, Mom, and the whole crew is first rate. The CAG has me working on something called Iron Hand, which promises to be interesting. Can't say any more about it, though. I've got to cut this a little short to make the afternoon COD. Call Trish for me and have her and little Harm out to the farm for a while. I think the separations are getting difficult for her. Let her know that I've applied to shore duty and hope that this will be my last cruise for a while.

Love, Harmon"

Harm searched the letter for a date, wondering when this was from while also instinctively knowing it had to have been 1969. If his father had applied for shore duty before that, he wouldn't have been back on the Ticonderoga and wouldn't have got shot down that Christmas Eve. Harm gently closed the album, struggling with the emotions that the letter had brought up. His mind came up with a long forgotten quote he'd heard by Winston Churchill, about how "the terrible ifs accumulate".

Putting the album well aside, Harm got up from the rocker and went out into the kitchen. Taking a bottle of bourbon from the cupboard, he found a short glass and began to pour. When the glass was well over half full, he stopped and then stared at both the drink and the bottle. A part of him wanted so badly to drain that glass, to try and kill the surging sorrow and pain with the alcohol. Another part of him knew that wasn't the answer to the problem, but rather the adding of another problem to the list.

For a time, he had truly believed that finding out his father's fate had put the ghost to rest. Then had come the string of revelations and the man who for a long time had been his knight in shining armor had become just a man. First there was Jenny Lake, then the existence of Sergei confirming that his father had been intimate with Pitchta, the Russian peasant girl. To an extent, these things had also helped to change Harm's relationship with Frank. Maybe not completely, but enough to make him realize that both his mother and father had adjusted to the idea that they would never be reunited in this world. Frank had been the man his mother had chosen and he had deserved better from Harm than he'd gotten over the years.

Finally, Harm took the glass and carefully poured the bourbon back into the bottle. He put the bottle back into the cupboard and the glass into the sink. Turning off the lights as he went, he headed off to bed. Something else he'd found out since moving to the farm was that he was sleeping more and better than he had in a very long time, which was giving him even more energy than he'd previously had.

Sarah MacKenzie's Apartment – Georgetown

2324 Eastern

The stack of files sitting on the coffee table were mocking her, Mac felt. She was spending all of her time working through the backlog of cases that existed because of the Imes disaster. When it was discovered that Commander Imes wasn't an attorney, all of her old cases had had to be reevaluated. A number of them had been referred for retrial, some had been thrown out entirely and the rest had managed to be upheld. Still, because of the critical nature of those old cases, a number of recent, more minor cases had been allowed to linger. This had turned into the proverbial snowball rolling downhill, as each of those cases had caused even more cases to be pushed back.

This stack was part of the result of that. At the morning staff call, Admiral Chegwidden had "requested" that the senior staff put in a little extra time to get the backlog caught up. As Chief of Staff, Mac knew that the Admiral was still trying to find another person to help with the under manning of the office. The only problem was, there weren't any available bodies as it was and several SJA posts were unfilled at the moment. So, the Admiral was having to consider where he could get a good attorney from while not upsetting another senior officer by taking their attorney.

What's more were the reports she'd heard about Harm refusing to return to JAG. Coates had let it slip that she had told the Admiral to talk to Harm after he had been at JAG to testify in the Imes court-martial and that the Admiral had left the office after that. Whether he had spoken to Harm or not was unknown, but Mac was willing to bet that he had because it would explain the visit by Harm she had seen in the security log. And Coates had also said that she'd filed a letter from Harm asking the Admiral to not reinstate his commission.

What was going on with Harm was beyond her. He'd literally fallen off the face of the Earth. She'd tried to search for him online, but hadn't been able to find anything. The post office didn't have a forwarding address for him, so she couldn't find him that way. His cell phone was completely disconnected and the company he'd gone through didn't have a new one on file for him. It was almost as if he was deliberately making himself impossible to find.

A part of her wanted to ask Clay about it, see if he could find Harm through his sources. But in order for her to do that, Clay would have to actually be in the country. Right now, he was in England working with the British on a Russian who was looking to sell secrets. Between the time difference and her not wanting to interrupt his work, Mac had spoken to Clay only twice since he left a week ago. Yet, she found that she didn't miss Clay as much as she had thought she would.

Ever since they had returned from Paraguay, she had been trying to make a relationship work with Clay. And for a time, things had seemed to be going well for them. Then Clay had begun having nightmares and started drinking more and more frequently. Mac was well aware of the cause of the nightmares, but she had been singularly unable to get Clay to admit to the problem. But it was the drinking that had begun the decline in their relationship, as she readily recognized the symptoms of a growing addiction.

So it was now that Mac was almost happy to have Clay gone for a few weeks, just so that she could refortify her own defenses against the pull of the bottle. The only good thing that could be said was that Clay rarely kept any alcohol at her apartment. Usually he would either bring a flask with him or a bottle he had picked up on the way over. The stash, as she thought of it, was kept at Clay's townhouse.

Giving her head a shake, Mac looked back at the stack sitting on the coffee table and sighed. Thinking about Harm and Clay wasn't solving her problem. And with that thought, she picked up another file and went back to work.


	5. Chapter 5

January 10, 2004

Faculty Parking Lot – Penn State University

1024 Eastern

The lot was almost half empty, given that it was a Saturday. While there were some classes that took place on Saturdays, Harm was willing to bet that most of the cars belonged to Professors who were either doing research or working on their lectures for the coming week in their offices. Still, at least he wasn't one of those who had to work today.

When he had arrived, Harm had gotten out of his Lexus and stood in front of it. The one flaw in their planning for today had been neither of them knew what car the other drove, making finding one another in the lot somewhat haphazard. This had been the only solution that Harm could think of, albeit a cold one. At least his jacket had a fur collar and he'd remembered his gloves. Still, he could feel the sting of the cold in his cheeks despite his beard and knew that they were probably red, too.

The sound of a car horn succeeded in drawing Harm's attention and he looked over to see Rebecca give a little wave. Harm waved back before turning towards his car. Getting back inside, he started the car before turning the heat back on. When she saw that he was ready, she led the way out of the parking lot and drove across town to the theater. Harm was impressed, as he parked beside her car. Not once on the entire drive had they gotten separated, as she timed the lights perfectly as to whether both cars would get through or not. The bright red color of her car had also been a help, too.

Together, they walked back down the half-block to the entrance to the theater, where the ticket seller was just beginning to set up for the day. The teen was clearly surprised to see that he already had customers waiting, so he hurried through getting ready and removed the Closed sign.

"How may I help you?" he asked.

"Two for the double feature, please," Harm told him as he removed his wallet to pay. With Rebecca behind him, he didn't catch the frown that crossed her face. She wasn't happy with having Harm pay for her ticket, but couldn't think of a graceful way to tell him so in front of the cashier.

"That will be ten dollars, Sir."

Harm handed over the money and picked up the tickets, before holding the door open for Rebecca. Once they were inside, he handed her a ticket.

"You do know that I can pay for my own ticket?" Rebecca said softly to him.

"I know that, Doctor. But I was also taught that when a gentleman goes somewhere with a lady, the gentleman pays," Harm told her.

"And who taught you that?"

"My grandmother, mostly. My mother is a little more liberated."

"Do you still spend time with your grandmother?" Rebecca asked.

"I spent what time I could with her before she passed in November," Harm told her.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, Doctor. She was nearly 90 and had lived a full life. I know that doesn't necessarily make it alright that she's gone, but it's easier to take than the senseless death of some teenager in an accident. Those are the ones I feel sorry about."

"You have an interesting perspective on life and death, you know," Rebecca told him.

"Maybe it comes from having been a naval aviator," Harm said. "I lost a number of good friends over the years, in accidents or combat. You feel bad that they're gone, but at the same time you think about the life they lived and how much they loved what they were doing. Also, dying is always something that happens to someone else, that's what you have to believe or you'll never survive in the air. Your own fear and doubts will kill you."

By this time, they had reached the concession stand. By mutual consent, they took a large popcorn and a large diet coke for each. This time Rebecca didn't frown when Harm paid, nor when he finally extended his elbow for her to hook her arm through. The more that they talked and got to know one another, the more she was finding to like about the tall lawyer. The same was true for Harm, now that he was working his way past their initial meeting. Even that first day in the restaurant, by the time they were done, he was feeling better than he had in a while.

They walked down a short hallway to the theater their movies were going to be shown in. The small cinema was obviously one that specialized in serving a niche market in State College. Theirs was one of four theaters in the complex, with the others showing movies that had run earlier in the year or last year at bargain prices. The classic movies were being shown as a double feature, which added value to the ticket price and also meant that the cinema might get twice the concession value from those customers.

Once they were inside the theater, Rebecca led the way to the higher reaches of the seats, which were some of the better ones. Settling in the middle of the row, they sat down and waited.

"So, what are we seeing today?" Harm asked, curious.

"Oh, a couple of movies with Michael Caine in them. First is 'The Eagle Has Landed' and then 'The Italian Job'," Rebecca told him.

"Interesting. I saw the first one years ago, but I don't think I have heard of the second."

"Oh, I've seen that one before. It has Michael Caine, Noel Coward and Benny Hill in it."

"Sounds like it will be good," Harm said. "But if you've seen it before, why see it again?"

"Haven't you ever reread a book that you enjoyed or listened to a song over and over? Why should movies be any different?" she replied with a question of her own.

"Alright, I can see your point."

"Why am I not surprised that you do?"

"Perhaps because what you said makes a lot of sense."

Rebecca settled for eating a little of the popcorn rather than saying anything else at the moment, then surprised herself as she leaned into Harm and snuggled up against him as best as she could given the configuration of the seats. Harm was slightly surprised at her actions but did what men instinctively did at times like this. He wrapped an arm around her and held her, not possessively but gently. It had been a couple of years since he had held a woman like this, back when he and Renee were together. It surprised him how much he found he'd missed this, just the companionship that a moment like this spoke of.

For her part, Rebecca was simply melting. It had been so very long since she'd let a man hold her like this, almost 15 years to be precise. When she had been in college in Wisconsin, she had been sexually assaulted by a professor. After reporting the crime to the campus police, it was she who had been treated like the criminal rather than the man who had tried to rape her. They had tried to get her to admit that she had somehow led him on and, when that failed, to fill her in on all the gory details of what his defense attorneys would put her through on the stand.

By the time they were done with her, Rebecca was a mess emotionally. She knew that what he had done was wrong, yet she couldn't find it within herself to go through with a trial. In addition to that, her work in school had also declined markedly, to the point that one of her professor in the pre-med program commented on it to her. That professor was also a psychiatrist and she helped Rebecca work through the demons that were now confronting her, rebuilding her emotionally. When graduation rolled around, Rebecca was as recovered as she could be and also committed to a new path in her medical career, having decided that the world needed good psychiatrists more than it needed orthopedists.

The only flaw in the equation was that the rebuilt walls around Rebecca had been made so high and thick that they had succeeded in keeping both the bad as well as the good men out. Until Harm, that is. And she found herself wondering what had changed within her that led to the lowering of her defenses in this way that she was now openly snuggling with a man she barely knew despite their conversations.

Harm was, however, strictly gentlemanly in his behavior. So that, even though they were snuggled together as they watched the movies, he never once tried to kiss Rebecca. He didn't feel that their relationship, if that is what this was, had reached that stage yet. Although, this afternoon together felt very much like a first date for the couple. The two movies were entertaining, yet very different from one another. But the theater did a good job by playing the more somber one first, then the comedic movie second, so that the audience ended up leaving the theater laughing.

When they left the theater, it was pushing 4 PM. Harm's stomach grumbled slightly, since he had skipped lunch while sitting in the theater and breakfast was a long time ago.

"How does an early dinner sound?"

"It sounds nice, but I have to be in Altoona by 6 for evening rounds at the VA," Rebecca replied. "I usually just grab something to eat in the cafeteria there on Saturdays, especially if the movie is running really late."

"How long of a drive is it to Altoona?"

"About an hour."

Harm thought about it for a moment before reluctantly seeing her point. Eating anything here would probably make her late to work. So, he walked her to their cars.

"Today was a great day. I enjoyed it a lot," Rebecca told him when she had her door open.

"So did I. In fact, I'd like to do it again," Harm said.

"Next weekend?"

"See what's playing and let me know. I'm placing myself in your hands, Rebecca, you're the classic movie expert here."

This was the first time she could remember him saying her first name. The sound of it from his lips sent a shiver down her spine.

"Thank you, Harmon…"

"Just Harm," he told her.

"Alright, Harm," she said. "I'll call you when I find out."

"Good. Have a safe drive, Rebecca."

Once she was safely in her car, Harm moved away so that she could back out of the space and drive off. Only when he could no longer see her car did he get into his own and start off for home.

Altoona VA Medical Center – Altoona, Pennsylvania

1754 Eastern

Rebecca was just finishing putting on her doctor's coat when Doctor Beth Rhodes walked through the door to the doctor's dressing room. For the staff psychiatrists, they used the lockers to store their jackets and purses while on rounds, rather than as the surgeons did with their clothes before changing into scrubs. Rebecca was pleased to see Beth, as the pair had formed something of an instant friendship when Rebecca joined the staff five years ago. Beth also served as Rebecca's counselor here.

"Hey, Becca, about time you got here," Beth said as she sat down on the bench next to Rebecca. "Hot date this afternoon?"

Before Rebecca could even begin to reply, Beth must have seen something in her face.

"You did, didn't you? Hallelujah, sweetheart."

"Will you keep it down, Beth?" Rebecca begged as her friend's voice had begun to rise. Fortunately, they were the only two in the room at the moment, but that could change at the drop of a hat and this was something she wanted to keep private for the time being. "Yes, I went out with someone this afternoon. We went to the movies."

"And was he a good kisser?" Beth asked, knowing that one reason for going to the dark movie theater was the chance to make out.

"We didn't kiss, Beth. I snuggled up against him and he just held me close, but yet didn't, if you know what I mean."

Beth just looked at her friend for a long moment.

"You mean, like you were a person and not a possession."

"Exactly. I felt cared for in a way I haven't felt before. Like I just knew if I had pulled back, he would have let go instantly," Rebecca said.

"Sweetheart, what you have there sounds like the last of the real gentlemen," Beth told her.

"He even alluded to it, when we got to the theater. He paid for the tickets and I complained that I could pay for my own. He just said that he was taught that when a gentleman was out with a lady, the gentleman paid."

"Oh my. If he happens to have any brothers, could you send them my way?"

Rebecca and Beth shared a look before bursting out laughing, as Rebecca knew that her friend was happily married with a wonderful husband. Then Beth got up and the pair left the dressing room and joined the other doctors for the start of rounds. Since Rebecca's patients were all outpatients at the moment, she didn't necessarily have to join in the rounds, but she considered them a part of her continuing education. Sometimes you see or hear something that makes a connection with a patient's problems and helps you to better treat them, was how she viewed it.

Most of the patients on site were ones that had shown an inclination to hurting themselves. The staff's goal was to get them on the proper medications and help them get back into society. For some it worked, but for others this was the only place where they felt safe anymore. Rebecca was sometimes saddened by this fact, because she knew what these men and women were missing out on in the outside world.

When they were finished with their rounds, Beth and Rebecca retired to the staff lounge. A couple of the other doctors joined them for a few minutes before leaving. Once they were alone, Beth turned back to their earlier conversation.

"So, how did you meet?" Beth asked.

"We first met at a Christmas party out in La Jolla. I had been talked into going by my mother and he was there with his parents," Rebecca said. "Then I saw him at a restaurant in State College and accused him of following me. Well, it turned out that he didn't know I taught there and he had just been hired as a professor at the law school."

"Ah, a lawyer."

"A former navy lawyer."

"What's a former navy lawyer doing teaching at Penn State, Becca?" Beth asked curiously.

"His grandmother owned a farm in Belleville and when she passed away, he inherited it. So, he moved there after he left the navy. Then a neighbor told him about the position at the university, so he applied," Rebecca said.

"So, what's he look like?"

"He's tall, about 6 foot 3 or so. Thin without being too thin. Black hair with these incredible blue eyes and this beard that serves as a frame to a wonderful smile."

"So, after that meeting at the restaurant, then what happened?" Beth asked.

"A couple of days later, I saw him again and we talked over lunch. That's when I asked him to join me at the movies," Rebecca told her.

"You asked him on a date?"

"No, I never said the word 'date'. I said that I was going to the movies on Saturday and asked if he would like to join me."

"Becca, that sounds like a date to me, sweetheart," Beth told her, fighting to keep the smile off her face as she saw it finally dawn on her friend that it did sound just like a date. Rebecca buried her head in her hands. She definitely hadn't meant to go that far so fast. But then, she was so out of practice with the whole dating game that she wasn't even sure she could regulate the pace of events.

"What do I do now, Beth?" Rebecca asked, pleading with her friend for help.

"You call him up and ask him out again, silly. That is, if he doesn't call you first."

"And if the thought of it terrifies me?"

Beth moved over next to her friend and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. When the pair had first become friends, she had discovered the terrible secret that her friend kept from the rest of the world. So, she knew what the redhead was worried about. Yet, Beth also knew that the only solution was for Rebecca to get back out there and live life, rather than being afraid of it. She just prayed that this man was as good as Rebecca portrayed him to be.

"Just go slowly, Becca. If he's the gentleman he seems to be, he'll give you all the time in the world," Beth told her.

Rebecca nodded at that. Her impression of Harm was that she had nothing to fear from him, yet her fears were still too powerful for her to completely overcome. So, she would take Beth's advice and move slowly. On Monday, she would call him with the movies that were playing next weekend and see where that led. For the time being, she would make sure that their meetings were in public places.


	6. Chapter 6

January 11, 2004

Rabb Farm – Belleville, Pennsylvania

0924 Eastern

Harm had just finished his breakfast and was doing the dishes when he heard a car coming up the drive. Putting the last dish in the rack, he dried his hands and then laid the apron across the back of the chair as he left the kitchen. Looking out the window, he sighed as he saw the state police logo on the door. Pulling on his winter coat, Harm opened the front door as the two officers got out of the vehicle and approached.

"Mr. Rabb," the older officer said.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Harm asked, watching.

"We were asked to check back with you and see if you had heard from Miss Johnson."

"As I told her when you were last out here, I have not spoken to Mattie since November. I have since move out of state, I have a new phone number that is not listed and nobody that she knows would know where I live."

"Mr. Rabb, we're simply doing our jobs," the female officer said.

"So you've said, Ma'am," Harm replied. "I can take it by your visit that Mattie has still not been found?"

"No, she has not been."

"And I should expect a visit every couple of days until she has been, is that it?"

"Well, we could always run you in for hindering our investigation," the man said.

"Good luck with that, officer. Because the moment I was released, I'd be filing the largest wrongful imprisonment lawsuit Pennsylvania has ever seen," Harm shot back.

"If you can find an attorney who would take your case."

"Oh, I already have the attorney. Best part is, I wouldn't even have to leave the room to find him."

"You're an attorney?" the lady asked.

"I also teach criminal law at Penn State. Feel free to sit in on the class, you might just learn something," Harm said, his anger clear in his voice. "As an attorney and a member of the state bar association, I would be honor bound to turn Mattie in to you if she was here or did contact me."

"Mr. Rabb, I understand your feelings, but you have to see things from our side as well. Unfortunately, not every person we interview is going to be honest with us. That's why we have to keep coming back and looking around. The only thing that interests me right now is the whereabouts of Miss Johnson, that's all," the man said.

"Fair enough, officer. Do you need to check the house again?"

"Not today, but we may in the future."

"Then, you'll forgive me if I say good day. I have some things around here that I need to do today," Harm told them before going back into the house. The two officers watched him go before getting back into their patrol car and leaving.

After taking off his jacket, Harm went upstairs to his grandmother's old bedroom. This was the first thing he had planned for the day. All of her clothes and things had been donated to charity and the furniture had been temporarily removed. Harm was going to paint the room, something that hadn't been done for too long, he thought looking at the shadows on the walls marking where pictures had been removed.

Harm started by laying down a primer layer, which would allow the latex to stick. He was almost certain that the current paint was oil-based, which wouldn't accept the new paint. The alternative was stripping the old paint, but he worried about exposure to lead in the old paint. This would take care of both issues nicely. The new paint was a sea green color, which he thought would go nice with the blue carpet he planned on eventually putting in. When everything was done, he intended to make this his bedroom since it was bigger than his old room.

Since he intended to replace the carpet anyway, Harm skipped putting down drop clothes and just went to work. After the primer had dried, he put on the first coat of paint before going downstairs for lunch. This served to give the paint a chance to dry before he put on the second coat, if necessary. As it turned out, it wasn't, which meant he had that much more time for the second thing he wanted to accomplish today.

Once he had cleaned up the painting supplies, Harm put them away and then put his coat on. He also got a hat and gloves, before heading out the back door and making his way to the large wood pile that was under a shelter halfway to the barn. Something he'd noticed last night was that the split pieces were running low. That's why today, he was going to split some more and build his supply back up. If he was using the wood to heat the house, he'd really be doing this every couple of days. However, since he only needed it for the stove at mealtimes and the fireplace occasionally, he could get by with once every couple of weeks.

Taking the ax from its resting place on a pair of hooks, Harm started working his way through the pile. His muscles were soon complaining from the new workout, more used to weight machines and treadmills than chopping wood. But eventually they remembered the chores of his teenage years, when his grandmother would have him cut some wood for the stove. By the time he was done, he had worked up a decent sweat, so that he hurried to load the bin near the house before going inside before he got chilled.

Going over to the coffee pot, Harm started a small pot to brew before going upstairs. Undressing, he jumped into the shower and cleaned up before putting on some comfortable clothes to lounge in. The house was a little chilly, so when he got back downstairs, he checked the thermostat. Seeing it was set for 65 degrees, he turned it up to 68 degrees before heading out to the kitchen and the now ready pot of coffee. Filling a large mug, he went back to the living room and settled down on the couch for a rest before it was time for him to consider what he wanted to do for dinner. He could either fix a small pot of vegetable soup or head into town to eat at the local diner. Before he could decide however, he dozed off to sleep.

Bud and Harriet's House – Alexandria, Virginia

1952 Eastern

Bud was settled behind his desk in the small home office he had created for himself. This way, he could concentrate on his work while the children played in the living room. He just had to make sure that the door was well shut and that Harriet knew where he was. The extra workload that all of the senior staff had been assigned had meant that his plans for the weekend had been forced to take a back seat to the files he'd brought home with him.

Both Harriet and little AJ had sighed when he'd told them that the trip to the ice show would either have to be done without him or cancelled, though for somewhat different reasons. Harriet had dearly wanted to see the show and thought it would be entertaining for the kids. Little AJ, on the other hand, had figured it would be really boring, especially after seeing some ice skating on television.

Now, instead of being at the show, the family was at home while Bud worked. Fortunately, Harriet had found someone to take the tickets, so they were able to get some of their money back. And the kids were enjoying playing with the model train set that was still set up from Christmas, along with the new car that had been added as a present from Mac to little AJ.

After a few moments of working on the current case file, Bud turned to his personal computer. He needed to check a case citation online, so he opened up the browser and searched. Finding what he was looking for, he was just about to close the browser when he impulsively stopped and typed in "Harmon Rabb". Clicking the search button, he sat back and waited. Nothing. With a sigh, he closed the browser and turned back to the files. It had been something of a long shot anyway, but Bud had hoped for something different. More and more sources of information were being put on the Internet every day, he knew. Why not a possible clue as to Harm's whereabouts?

January 12, 2004

Harmon Rabb's office – Penn State University

0743 Eastern

Harm was surprised to see he had a pair of people waiting for him as he approached his office. It was only the second week of class, after all. Nothing had come up that should warrant a visit from a student, yet one of the people waiting looked like that was what he was. The presence of the other person was slightly less of a surprise, because he had expected to hear from Rebecca at some point today.

Opening the door to the office, he stood back. By silent consent, the student was the first to go in to see Harm. The visit only lasted a couple of minutes, with the student wanting Harm to sign a slip letting him into the criminal law class. Harm checked his roster and saw that he could take an additional student and therefore agreed. He gave the young man a copy of the syllabus and told him to be at class with the books today, so he could catch up with the rest of the class.

Once he was gone, it was Rebecca's turn to come in. Harm stood for her and waited until she took the chair across the desk from his before he sat back down.

"Step into my parlor, said the spider to the fly," Harm said with a smile.

"That's so bad," Rebecca said with a groan.

"Well, it was either that or 'What's up, Doc?'"

"Oh, God, that's even worse."

Harm and Rebecca were both laughing by this point.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Harm asked.

"I came by for two things, Harm. First, this Saturday the theater is showing a double feature of Jimmy Stewart movies, 'The Spirit of St. Louis' and 'The Glenn Miller Story'. Are you interested in seeing them?" Rebecca asked.

"Sounds like a nice afternoon. Same time?"

"Yes. Noon is when they start, so 10:30 here or do you think you can find the theater on your own this time?"

"I think I can find it now that I've seen where it is. I'll just come here and retrace our route," Harm told her.

"Alright, then let's say 11:30 so we don't get there before they open this time," Rebecca said.

"Why not? It gave us a little time to talk last time, get to know one another."

"That kind of leads to my next thing. Harm, are we dating?"

Harm paused, because he heard something in her voice that made him uncertain. There was a questioning to the tone, no doubt, but also a large amount of fear. Why was she afraid, he wondered.

"And if I said 'Yes', would that change things?" Harm asked.

"It might, Harm," Rebecca replied as she looked down at her hands.

"Is something wrong? If it is, just tell me."

"I don't know you well enough to go into it. Let's just say for the moment that I had a bad experience once upon a time and it has left me a little afraid of being involved with someone."

Harm was curious at that statement, but decided to leave things alone for the moment. Until she had brought it up, he hadn't really considered even Saturday as a "date". But now that he thought about it, he did want to date the woman sitting across from him. Yet the very prospect seemed to terrify her. So, all he could try to do was gain her trust and work on building a relationship from there.

"Alright," was all Harm said in reply.

"Alright? No curiosity, no hundred and one questions, no badgering the witness?" Rebecca asked with a teasing smile.

"No. When you're ready to talk about whatever it is, that will be the time for questions. Until then, it's not really my place to ask them, is it?"

With that statement, Rebecca's appreciation for the man across from her shot through the roof. The couple of other times she'd tried to start dating again, as soon as she had hinted at something, the men just started badgering her to information. Harm, however, seemed to understand and was content to proceed at her pace. With that thought came another. She did want to date him, to see if what she was currently feeling could lead to something so much more than what she had now. And with that, she decided that today was the perfect day to start.

"Harm, would you like to have dinner with me?"

"Where at?" Harm asked, knowing only the single restaurant in State College.

"Well, there's an Irish pub near campus or an Italian restaurant," Rebecca told him. "They also do lunch too, so if you like them you could go back for lunch on other days."

"Why don't we go to the Italian restaurant, then?"

"Alright. How about we meet here at 6?"

"6:30," Harm told her. "My last class doesn't end until 6:15."

"Great. Then, it's a date," Rebecca replied with a smile as she got up to leave. Harm rose as well, but she was out the door before he could make it around the desk to hold it for her. With a smile, he went back to his desk and picked up the lecture notes he would need for his classes. Armed with those, he left the office and headed off to the first class of his day.

JAG Headquarters – Falls Church, Virginia

0916 Eastern

With the morning staff call concluded, Mac left the conference room and headed for the break room for more coffee. After a couple of later than normal nights, she had managed to make a good sized dent in the extra cases she had been assigned. The downside was that she was more tired than she should be for a Monday morning. She could only hope the coffee was up to the task, in other words Marine grade rather than the usual brew.

A smile of relief flashed across her face as she saw that the Admiral had beaten her to the machine. Finding it empty, he was making a new pot. He was also the only other person in the office who made it the way she preferred. However, the pair were now faced with a couple of minute wait for the new brew.

"I was happy to hear that everyone is making some progress on the backlogged cases, Colonel," Admiral Chegwidden said.

"We're trying, Sir," Mac told him. "I know that I took some home over the weekend, as did Lieutenant Roberts."

"So I gathered from the stack Petty Officer Coates gave me this morning to sign off on."

"Have you had any luck finding another officer for the legal staff, Sir?"

"No, unfortunately, I have not. And after talking with the various NLSOs and FJAs, I don't think there's a spare body to be had at the moment. A couple also mentioned a trend that they've been seeing out there, that we have managed to escape here at headquarters," Chegwidden told her.

"What's that, Sir?" Mac asked, curious.

"A number of promising younger officers are choosing to leave the service once they've completed their commitments. We send them to law school in exchange for eight years of service, four active duty and four inactive subject to recall. Most of them just serve the whole eight to be done with their obligations. And then, they leave the service and go into private practice or corporate law, where they make a lot more than they did as a Lieutenant or Lieutenant Commander."

"How bad is it?"

"Too bad, frankly. We're losing officers faster than we can replace them. After those calls, I pulled some reports and did the numbers. We're currently got 20 manning slots that are unfilled at the moment. The current NJS class is 25, but we've also got 15 officers who are currently on terminal level and another 12 whose eight years are up by June and may also leave the service," Chegwidden told her before seeing that the pot had finished. He quickly filled two mugs and motioned for Mac to follow him to his office.

"So, we're looking at a potential negative 2 in the manning situation if all 12 decide to leave," Mac said once they were seated.

"Exactly. And even if only half of them leave, we've only managed to fill four of the unmanned positions. The SECNAV is getting pressure from various commanders about the situation and that means…."

"He's pressuring you, Sir."

Chegwidden just nodded as he took a sip of his coffee. He hadn't really intended to go into all of this with Mac, but as his Chief of Staff, she was really the only one he could safely vent to. He also knew that she was good at keeping things like this confidential.

"Yes. There's a potential plan in place to solve some of the problem, but it still needs to work its way through the maze of bureaucracy in the Pentagon before I can proceed with it," Chegwidden told her. "The same people who are screaming now will probably be screaming even louder when this gets to their desks."

"What is the plan, if I may ask, Sir?" Mac asked.

"A complete restructuring of the JAG Corps, by eliminating the TSOs and SJAs and standing up RLSOs which will perform the same duties while hopefully lowering the manning requirements. The first step will be a pilot program, out in San Diego, but that probably won't happen until next year."

"Do you think it will be enough to get beyond the 20 open positions?"

"It could be. The other part is mine, because I need to do a better job of convincing the younger officers that they are making real and important contributions. Maybe a few more will stay if I can do that," Chegwidden said.

"Speaking of convincing people to stay," Mac started before pausing to think of a way to say what she wanted to say without it coming across the wrong way. "Have you heard anything from Harm lately, Sir?"

"I have, in a manner of speaking. But, let me ask you a question, Colonel. Don't you think that if he wanted to talk with you, he would have called? I know that the Roberts haven't been in contact with him either, from what I overheard at the Christmas party. I would say that right now, maybe he wanted to get his new life in order without being constantly reminded of the old one."

"That may be, Sir. I guess I'm just a little hurt that he's essentially vanished. I went by his loft a week ago and he'd moved out, his phones are disconnected and every search I've tried has turned up a blank. I guess I thought we were close enough that he would at least say goodbye."

Admiral Chegwidden just looked at the Marine. He did know where Harm currently was, from the reference request by Dean Trumbull. But, to judge by Mac's story, he was the only one who did know and he suspected that his knowing wasn't intentional on Harm's part. So, he was now faced with a choice. He could tell Mac where Harm was and he knew she would immediately rush up there to find the former officer, but for what purpose. To get him to come back or to rip his throat out for the way he'd left. Or he could respect the obvious desires of the man and keep quiet about what he knew.

After a moment, Chegwidden decided to go with the second choice. If Mac found him on her own, that was one thing. But he would have no part of helping to show her the way.

"People change, Colonel. Mission statements change. And we change with them, or get left behind," Chegwidden said to Mac, while also considering the possibility of assigning her to the new RLSO pilot program in San Diego. A change in scenery might be just what the Marine needed, if he saw her focusing too much attention of solving the riddle of Rabb's disappearance.

Mamma Mia's – State College, Pennsylvania

1855 Eastern

Harm and Rebecca were settled at a nice little table about halfway between the entrance and the kitchen. When they had met at his office, Harm had surprised her with a half dozen red roses. He had heard her that morning call it a date, so that was how he was treating it. Their first official date, which to him meant flowers for the lady. Now, the roses resided on the table between them, as they sipped on their drinks. Harm had ordered a Gnocchi with Vodka sauce and Italian dressing on his side salad, while Rebecca went with Fettuccini Alfredo and Ranch dressing for her salad.

"Is it just me or are we probably the oldest people in here right now," Harm whispered as he looked around the room.

"No, it's not just you. Remember this is a college town and we're eating in a restaurant near the school, so it's natural that the place would be crowded with students," Rebecca told him.

"Not exactly a romantic spot for a first date."

"Oh, it don't know about that. I'm with a nice man, who gave me roses and having a nice meal. That sounds fine to me, Harm."

"Still, no candle lit tables with a guy playing a violin in the background," Harm said with a grin.

"If you can find a place that has that in State College, let me know and we can go there for my birthday or something," Rebecca replied with a laugh that brought one from Harm as well.

"We might have to go to Pittsburgh for that."

"Or Philadelphia."

"Seems like a really long way to go for a meal, though," Harm said, still grinning.

"Well, it would guarantee that we were hungry by the time we got there," Rebecca told him.

"But then, we'd be just as hungry once we drove all the way back."

"That could be a problem."

"So, I guess our dates won't have candle lit dinners," Harm told her.

"Well, maybe once we've moved a little further down the relationship path, we could have one at one of our homes," Rebecca replied.

"I would probably suggest your, unless you want to make the almost hour drive to Belleville."

"Oh, I don't know. Letting some strange man into my house or driving to the middle of nowhere to meet that same strange men."

Harm and Rebecca both shared a laugh at that. Both of them knew if they ever got to that point in the relationship, they certainly wouldn't be strangers. And Rebecca also knew that it would probably be some time before she reached the point of letting any man into her home. Still, little by little she hoped to reach that point with Harm.

The waitress ended the conversation for the moment by bringing their salads. The couple went silent as they ate, just quietly enjoying each other's company. When they were finished with the salads, she came back to remove those plates and quickly replace them with the main courses. Both of them were slightly disappointed in the dishes and Harm made a mental note to not come back here. Once they were finished, he paid the bill and they left.

The walk back across campus to the faculty parking lot was done hand in hand, while Rebecca held the roses in her off hand.

"So, what did you think of our first date?" Rebecca asked.

"Are you talking about the bad food or the wonderful company?" Harm asked back.

"Then, I take it you'd like to repeat the company but try for better food next time?"

"I would most certainly like another date with you, Rebecca."

"You could call me Becca, you know," Rebecca said.

"Not Becky?" Harm asked, before seeing her face freeze.

"NEVER CALL ME BECKY!"

Like a shot, she was running away from him. Harm was at a loss as to how that one little word had triggered this reaction, but he knew he had to find out. So, he ran after her, his longer stride rapidly closing the distance until he caught up with her. Yet, instinctively, he knew not to grab her or even touch her right now. Instead, he merely kept pace with her until she stopped, sobbing and gasping for breath. Harm took out his handkerchief and handed it over, while also maintaining a space between them.

Rebecca was silently cursing herself for the massive overreaction that had shot out of her at the sound of that one little word. She could also tell that she was adding to the curiosity that had to be mounting within Harm. Still, she could not bring herself to talk about it with a man. In fact, the only people who knew were the doctors who had treated her at the University of Wisconsin's Hospital, the psychiatrist she saw afterwards and Beth Rhodes here in Pennsylvania. Even her family didn't know, because she hadn't been able to face the thought of them knowing.

"I'm sorry for upsetting you, Rebecca," Harm said, when he saw that she was finally in control of her emotions. "Another landmine, I take it?"

"One of my biggest," she confessed quietly.

"So, no B-words then. How about if I just call you Doc?"

Rebecca had to smile at that, in spite of herself.

"What, like one of the seven dwarfs? Does that make you Dopey or Sleepy?"

"No, not like the seven dwarfs. I just thought, you're a Doctor and in the Navy, we'd call the corpsmen and doctors we really liked 'Doc' and not by their ranks," Harm explained.

"So, does that mean you really like me, Harm?" Rebecca asked.

"We're working on that, aren't we?"

"Oh, Harm. Sometimes, the very fact that I like you scares me to death."

"Hopefully, there'll come a time when it doesn't," Harm told her.

"I hope so too, Harm. I really do," Rebecca replied quietly, the mood broken.

Together, they walked to their cars. Harm waited until she was safely in hers and had driven away before getting into his and beginning his drive back home. However, the curiosity that had served him so well when he was a naval lawyer kept nagging at him. He desperately wanted to know what had happened in Rebecca's past that had done this to her, where a simple common nickname produced a reaction like that.


	7. Chapter 7

January 17, 2004

The Lions Theater – State College, Pennsylvania

1145 Eastern

Harm stood in front of the theater, waiting for Rebecca to show up. They had not seen each other since Monday, but had talked on the telephone the last two nights. He had even confirmed the time with her for today, as well as that they would meet here. Now, he was wondering if she had changed her mind at the last moment. Pulling out his cell phone, he checked to see if it was on and then to see if he had a signal. After that, he was left to check his watch again before walking a little to keep warm.

Finally, he saw her car coming down the street and smile. After she had pulled into the parking lot, he made his way towards her and waited for her to get out.

"I'm sorry if I kept you waiting, Harm," Rebecca said once she was facing him.

"I was getting a little concerned," Harm replied. "But now that you're here, everything is fine."

"Sorry, busy week and then I forgot to set my alarm clock for today, so I woke up late."

"Anything you can talk about or just doctor/patient stuff?"

"Problem patients and an unexpected midweek drive to Altoona to see one of them at the VA," Rebecca told him. "But enough about that for right now. We're here to see a couple of movies and take our minds off the outside world for a few hours."

"Well, I've already got the tickets. We just need to get our refreshments and hurry to our seats," Harm told her.

"Not much need to hurry, Harm. I doubt the theater will be half full, at most."

Harm just smiled at that, before leading the way to the line for the drinks and popcorn. By the time they had gotten through the short line and made their way into the theater, the house lights were being dimmed for the previews. Still, they were able to find a pair of seats almost exactly where they had sat last weekend. Harm saw that Rebecca had been right in her assessment of the potential crowd, as the theater was less than half full.

Once they were seated, Harm put his arm around Rebecca's shoulders. He felt her tense momentarily before she relaxed into him, while leaving Harm slightly puzzled at the same time. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on the point of view, the movie started before Harm could comment on it. So, he contented himself with watching her out of the corner of his eye while they watched the movies. Until he noticed that she was now watching him watch her, which brought a sheepish smile to Harm's lips.

From that point on, Harm tried to keep his attention on the movie. Rebecca, however, was still silently watching him more than the movie. To be as relaxed as he was, that was a goal she desperately wanted to achieve. Even as she was beginning to trust him, she had still instinctively tensed at something as simple as his touch. Would it ever get easier or was this how it was always going to be? And, God forbid, what would happen if their relationship reached the point of intimacy? What then?

Silent tears slid from her eyes at the thoughts now dominating her. Harm at first didn't notice the change, until he felt her shoulders shake beneath his arm. At that moment, he looked over and saw her. The movie was instantly forgotten, as he stood and gently got her to her feet. Harm quickly got them out of the theater and on outside, moving them to his Lexus. Getting the passenger door open, he got her inside before going around the front and getting in beside her.

"Rebecca," he said softly, wondering what had brought this on.

"I'm sorry, Harm. I'm so sorry," she said between her tears.

"What's wrong?"

"Me…you…us. I'm not sure we should see each other anymore."

"Why not? Is it something I've said or done?" Harm asked, shocked. He had thought that they were getting along very well, even if it was really too early in their relationship to actually tell.

"No, it's nothing you've said or done. The problem is with me," Rebecca told him.

"I'd like to help if you'll let me."

"That's just it. I'm not sure this is something you can help me with."

"Look, I know you're a psychiatrist. Have you ever thought about talking with someone about whatever it is that's bothering you so much," Harm said.

"Actually, I do talk with someone," Rebecca told him.

"Then, I'm make you a deal. You go and talk to them and I'll see you in my office on Monday. If you still want us to stop seeing each other at that point, I'll understand."

"Thank you, Harm."

With those three words, she was out of the car and walking slowly to hers. Harm, on the other hand, was left wondering what in the world was going on. Last weekend, she had snuggled up against him. Today, just his touch had caused her to stiffen. As his mind raced, he could sense that the pieces were all there, if only he could assemble them properly so that they revealed the picture. After endless minutes spent thinking and getting nowhere, Harm started the car and left. Given the early ending to his Saturday plans, he decided to stop and look at stoves before going back to the farm.

VA Medical Center – Altoona, Pennsylvania

1434 Eastern

Beth Rhodes was slightly surprised to see she had someone waiting to see her. Who it was surprised her even more, until her friend and sometime patient lifted her head and looked at her. The haunted look in Rebecca's eyes troubled Beth greatly. So much so, that she hurriedly pulled Rebecca into her office and closed the door. Once the two of them were settled into chairs facing each other, Beth began.

"Becca, what's wrong?"

"I told Harm I thought we should stop seeing each other," Rebecca replied.

"What brought this on, because last Saturday you were so happy?"

"We went out to dinner on Monday and as we were walking back to our cars, he called me Becky. And I just lost it. I screamed at him to not call me that and ran off. He followed me and when I finally stopped, we talked and he said he was starting to really like me. And that thought just scared the hell out of me. Then, we went to the movies today and he put his arm across my shoulders. Obviously after last Saturday, he thought it was alright and today I just stiffened. And I know he noticed, even after I willed myself to relax, because I could see him watching me. At that moment, I wondered what would happen if we continued our relationship to the point of intimacy. Would I freak out then? Just lose it the moment he starts to undress me. I'm sure that would go over well."

"So, let me get this straight. Because of something that may possibly happen in the future, you've decided to give up on a chance at happiness? Not something that has already happened or even something that is certain to happen, but only something that 'might' happen," Beth said, her tone making her opinion on that perfectly clear.

"Beth, it's not that simple. I don't want to hurt Harm because of my failing," Rebecca said, tears in her eyes.

"Becca, this isn't about a failing. This is your mind and body protecting itself after a very traumatic experience. And think of how far you've come, even in the few years that I've known you? Heck, four years ago, you wouldn't have even gone to the movies with a man. So the very fact that you and Harm went to the movies together is something of an accomplishment. Now, I think you should keep seeing Harm. However, I think you're also going to have to tell him about what happened if you really want a future with him."

"I can't, Beth!"

Beth leaned forward and took her friend's hands in hers.

"Becca, at some point, for the two of you to go forward together, he needs to know. From what little you've told me, I am absolutely certain he suspects something. He'd have to be an idiot not to and somehow I don't see Penn State hiring an idiot as a law professor," Beth told her with a smile, one that Rebecca couldn't help but return.

"And what if this causes him to run away as fast as he can?" Rebecca asked.

"Then it's his loss, not yours. Besides, from what you've seen so far, do you think he'd run?"

"No, no I don't."

"Alright then. Let's make this easier. Because a public place is definitely NOT the location for this conversation, why don't we do this? You and your guy come over to my place, say Tuesday night. Jimmy's off that night, so he'll be there too. We can make it a double date and then after dinner, you can take Harm into the den and tell him. If it goes bad, Jimmy and I will be in the other room and all you'll have to do is yell," Beth said.

Rebecca smiled at that. Jim was Beth's husband and also a Lieutenant in the Pennsylvania State Police. If things did go bad, he was definitely a good man to have on her side. Yet, a part of her knew that no matter what happened, things wouldn't reach the point of her needing Jim. Harm, she felt, would either stay or he would leave, but he wouldn't hurt her. At least not physically.

January 19, 2004

Harmon Rabb's Office – Penn State University

0721 Eastern

Harm was sitting behind his desk, working on this week's lectures. Yesterday had been spent having a gas stove installed in the kitchen and having the old stove removed. He still chuckled at the thought of those poor deliverymen. The store promised free haul away of the old appliance and Harm had been more than happy to take them up on it. After this little adventure, he thought the store might reconsider that offer.

Still, the one downside of the new stove had been the need to have a plumber out. He'd also had to have the gas shut off while a new line was installed to supply the new stove. Harm knew he could have done it himself, but he had decided to go with a professional instead. He did run the electric line for the igniters on the stove, however. Once the work was done, he'd tried out the stove and been very pleased. Even better was all the extra room that had been created by the installation of the new stove, which was smaller than the old one had been.

The one problem had been the cleaning that had been needed afterward. The stove had almost certainly been sitting there for a century or better, with layers of dust and dirt built up behind it as proof. And then there was the trail that had been left as the workers removed the old one from the house. By the time he had gotten all of that done and had his dinner, he was tired. So, he had turned on the stereo and laid on the couch to read while listening to soft jazz.

Evidently, he had dozed off at some point because the next thing he knew, he woke up in the middle of the night stretched out on the couch. A glance at his watch had shown it to be a little after 4 in the morning. So, Harm had gotten up and started breakfast. Oatmeal with sliced bananas and orange juice were followed by a shower while a pot of coffee brewed.

Once he was dressed for the day, Harm came back downstairs and had a cup. He also filled his thermos for the drive to work before leaving at around 0530. The drive was just as pleasant as he could hope for, getting him to the university by 0630.

"So, this is what former Navy JAG officers do when they quit?" came a voice from the doorway, one Harm would just as soon not have heard anytime soon.

"Nice to see you too, Webb," Harm replied without looking up from his work.

"Oh, come on, Rabb! You're not still upset because I had to fire you?"

"No. I do think you could have done it in person, though."

"Hey, compartmentalization. Nobody was supposed to know that I was your boss," Webb told him. "Just like nobody is supposed to know or guess that we worked for a certain government agency."

"So, what brings you here, Webb? Another chestnut you need pulled from a fire?" Harm asked.

"No, I just happened to be here." At Harm's look of disbelief, Webb smiled. "Seriously, this is just a recruiting trip. One of our guys put us on to a couple of potential agents and we want to see them. The fact that you're here is why I took the trip, rather than sending someone else."

"Why?"

"When I got back from London on Friday, Sarah and I went out to dinner. I could tell something was bothering her, so I asked although I should have been smart enough to guess. It was you and your disappearing act. Nobody at JAG has heard from you since October, they don't know where you are or how you're doing. They're concerned, Harm," Webb told him.

"And how did you know where I was?" Harm asked.

"Seriously? Harm, think about it, will you? You were an agency employee, even if only for a short while. Do you really think that we haven't been keeping track of you?"

"And who have you told?"

"No one, Harm. It's not my place to tell them. If you're hiding out, I guess you have your reasons. Although I have to say, this isn't exactly hiding out," Webb told him.

"I'm not hiding, I just need some distance from certain places and people right now," Harm told him. "A lot has changed since I left JAG and I just need to get some perspective on things."

"We know about Miss Johnson, Harm. I have a couple of my people quietly looking for her, since I know you can't do it yourself."

"Thanks, Clay."

"I'll let you know when they find her," Clay said before standing. "One of them is Victor Galindez."

"Gunny's a good man. I'd say tell him to take care, but I don't want to chance it getting back to Mac that someone has had contact with me," Harm told him.

With that, Clay left Harm's office. As he walked down the hall, a slight smile came to his lips. He wouldn't tell Sarah where Harm was, but he'd figure out some way of convincing her that he was alright. Halfway to the elevators, he passed a redhead going in the opposite direction and nodded a greeting that was returned. He noticed that she had moved over slightly as they neared each other. Well, one couldn't be too careful, he guessed. At the elevators, he looked back down the hall in time to see her entered an office. Given where she had been standing, he was almost positive that it was Harm's. Clay's eyebrows rose at that before the elevator arrived to take him back downstairs. She didn't have the look of a student about her, in his opinion.

For her part, Rebecca had noticed the man in the overcoat and suit as soon as she entered the hall. He had looked all wrong for where he was at. Yes, some of the law professors did dress well, but this man's appearance spoke of wealth and position, not academia. As they had neared, she moved to the edge of the hallway to have some space as they passed. Once she was safely away from him, she moved back to the middle of the hall until she reached Harm's office.

Harm looked up when the door opened, wondering if Clay had forgotten something. Instead, he saw Rebecca standing there, a nervous look on her face.

"Please, Rebecca, come in," Harm told her, keeping his tone light to hide his own nervousness.

"Thank you," Rebecca said, as she closed the door and took the chair across the desk from him.

"So, did you talk to someone on Saturday?"

"Yes and I've come to ask if you still want to see me?"

"Of course, Doc. Is that what you want, though?" Harm asked, needing to hear her say it.

"I'd like to try," Rebecca said. "And to that end, my friend has invited us over to dinner tomorrow night. Just the two of us, her and her husband, kind of a double date."

"That sounds nice. Where at and what time?"

"Why don't we meet here at 5 and you can follow me there."

"That sounds like a plan, Doc. Now, how are you doing?" Harm asked.

"Better. I'm sorry again for what happened on Saturday, for ruining our afternoon out," Rebecca told him.

"Don't be, Rebecca. Something obviously bothered you, enough that you needed to get away. I understand that, I do. I'm just concerned about you, alright?"

"I appreciate that, Harm. And tomorrow, I'll try to explain it to you. I just hope that after hearing what I have to say, that things don't change too much between us."

"Since I don't know what you're going to say, I won't promise that things won't. But I do promise to listen," Harm said, smiling at her.

"At the moment, that more than I could hope for," Rebecca told him.

Rebecca's cell phone chose that moment to ring, breaking the conversation. Harm could only catch a snatch of the call before Rebecca was out of her chair and through the door. Unless he missed his guess, it had to be a patient at the VA. Harm doubted that something to do with one of her classes would have gotten her moving that fast. Then he stopped as he realized how late it was. He would have to get a move on himself or he would be late for his class. Grabbing his briefcase and the thermos, he collected his coat from the tree near the door and left the office, locking the door behind him.


	8. Chapter 8

January 20, 2004

Rhodes Residence – Altoona, Pennsylvania

1836 Eastern

Harm pulled his Lexus into the driveway behind Rebecca's Honda. The drive from State College had been an eye opener for him, as his guide had skillfully maneuvered her little car in and out of spots in the traffic that occasionally left him lagging behind. At the same time, she seemed to almost instinctively know when she was close to losing him and slowed enough to wait for him to get back behind her before taking off again.

Still, they had managed to make it all the way here without Harm having to once call for help. Now, as he opened her door for her, he looked around the neighborhood they were in. The houses were all newer ranch-style with a decent amount of space between them. Definitely where a doctor would be living and it made him think of the area around her mom and Frank's house in La Jolla. However, he cut his appraisal short as Rebecca moved around him and on up to the house.

Harm was just able to join her on the front porch before the doorbell was answered by a well-built man a few years older than Harm was. His sandy blonde hair was cut close to the scalp, almost like a Marines. Harm felt a little scruffy with his slightly longer hair and full beard, until the man smiled at him.

"Welcome to our home, Harm," the man said as he stood aside to let them in. "Beth's in the kitchen, Becca, if you want to join her. She's just finishing up dinner, so we'll be eating in a few. Or we can relax in the living room until she shouts."

"I'd probably only get in her way. Why don't we try the living room, instead," Rebecca told him.

"Great. I've got soda, juices and water if you want something to drink."

"A diet, if you have it," Harm said when the man looked at him.

"I'll have the same, Jim."

"Two diet sodas coming up," was the reply as they entered the living room. The man made his way to the bar, where he got filled two glasses with diet soda and brought them over. Then he went back for a glass of what looked like apple juice.

"Same old Jim. No booze for the drivers," Rebecca said.

"If I served you and something happened, I'd be responsible. Not to mention, I'd probably have to investigate the accident too."

"Jim's a Lieutenant on the State Police, Harm," Rebecca explained.

"Ah, so he's one of the guys you were thumbing your noise at on the way here, driving like Richard Petty on the highway," Harm said with a laugh.

"You were, Becca? Shame on you," Jim put in with a smile. "Seriously, Harm, couldn't you have done something about that."

"Sorry, I was too busy trying to keep up."

"Now you fellas just leave Becca alone," Beth said as she came into the room, going over and giving Rebecca a hug and kiss when she stood up. Harm had quickly joined her and could see that he was being appraised by an expert. After a long moment, Beth smiled and extended her hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Harm. You're all Becca has talked about for the last week or so."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Harm replied.

"No, that won't do. Ma'am is Jim's mom. You just call me Beth, understood?"

"Alright, Beth."

"Good, good. Now, I have stuffed peppers and rice for dinner, along with green beans. For dessert, there's chocolate cake. So, why don't we move to the dining room," Beth said.

The table was set for four, with the couples seated next to each other. The serving dishes were passed around, so that everybody could take what they wanted. Harm was pleasantly surprised by the food, as he'd been expecting some meat to have been served.

"So, Harm, Becca told me you used to be a navy lawyer before you started teaching at the University," Beth said.

"Yes, I was," Harm replied.

"Interesting career change."

"Well, there were outside influences on the decision."

"Oh," Rebecca asked, curious as were the other two.

"See, I had a friend who was in trouble and I asked for leave to go and help. My commanding officer refused my request, so I put in papers to resign my commission. I figured that would give me a chance to help my friend and I could come back afterwards and request a return to duty," Harm said.

"I take it things didn't work out as you'd hoped they would?" Jim asked.

"Well, I got my friend out of their problem, but I wasn't so lucky. When I came back, my commanding officer told me I was a civilian and then he proceeded to really go after me. Told me I was controlled by my emotions, not a team player and basically that he was glad to be rid of me."

"Ouch," both Rebecca and Beth said at the same time.

"Truth is, he was right to a degree. I am all too often controlled by my emotions, sometimes without totally considering the dangers involved I'll jump into something. And sometimes that makes me not be a team player. But I also think those things are the very things that made me the lawyer I am today. I won't back away from something I believe in," Harm said.

"Well, I guess I know who to call if I ever need a lawyer," Jim said with a smile.

"So that's the real reason for the nice meal," Harm told him with a grin.

"Of course, I'm not sure how good a lawyer can be if he's that cheap."

Beth and Rebecca both laughed, as did Harm.

"And Becca said you have a farm in Belleville?" Beth asked.

"It's just a small farm. It's been in the family for about 170 years, passing from father to son. My grandmother left it to me when she passed, since I'm the last male Rabb," Harm told her. "There's around a three hundred acres left, an old barn and the farmhouse that was rebuilt in the 1900s after a fire took the original one."

"Do you farm the land anymore?"

"No. One of my neighbors does in addition to his own and he gives me a share of the profits."

"Was the farm the reason you came back to Pennsylvania?" Jim asked.

"Partly. I was also looking for someplace to recover after a bad spell," Harm said.

"What else happened, Harm," Rebecca asked, covering his hand with hers.

"While I was out of the navy, I worked as a crop duster for a small company. And I got to like this young girl that worked there, Mattie. Her parents owned the company, or so I thought. I found out that her mother had been killed in a car accident and her father had vanished afterwards. So, I filed a petition with the county's department of children's service to become her guardian."

"Let me ask a question, Harm. How old was this girl?" Jim asked, guessing where this was going.

"14," Harm said.

"They came after you, didn't they? Possible sexually misconduct with a minor? Without knowing you or her, that's what I would do too. You're what, 40 or so, single and you're looking to become the guardian of a teenaged girl who's not a relative of yours."

"Yeah, after I calmed down and took a few steps back from the situation, I saw that too. Still, the outcome was that I can have no further contact with Mattie, so that meant I was also out of a job. Then my grandmother passed shortly afterwards and it just felt right to come here and rebuild my life."

"Well, we're glad you did, Harm," Beth said with a smile.

"Enough about me. What about you two, how did you meet?" Harm asked.

"High school sweethearts, born and raised in Altoona. After high school, I went to Penn State for my pre-med while Jim started with the state police. He supported us while I was getting my education and then when I graduated, he went to school to get his. We've been fairly lucky with both of us finding jobs so close to home, but that will probably change when he makes Captain in a couple of years."

"If I decide to take the next Captain's exam," Jim cautioned his wife. "Personally, I think we've got a good thing right here. And besides, you're next in line for department head at the hospital. If I make Captain and get posted to Philadelphia, then what? And don't say you'll just transfer to the VA Hospital there."

"Jim's right, Beth. If you transfer, it wouldn't be as a department head. You'd just be another doctor starting over. Sure, you'd still have your seniority, but you'd be seen as the new kid in town," Rebecca put in.

"Now you're ganging up with my husband against me, Becca?" Beth asked with a smile.

"Only because, for once, he's right and you're wrong."

"How long have you all known each other?" Harm asked.

"What 6, 7 years now?" Rebecca asked Beth and Jim.

"That's right. Ever since you came to the hospital as the new doctor on staff," Beth replied. "I was her mentor for the first couple of months and by the time that ended, we were friends."

"Not to mention, Beth's my counselor when I need one."

By this time, everyone had finished their plates. Beth got up and brought out the cake, then went back for plates and silverware for the dessert. Harm was watching Rebecca, however, and could see that she was getting a little tense. She still managed to finish her piece of cake but decline Beth's offer of coffee.

For herself, Beth was beginning to have some doubts about the wisdom of her making Rebecca tell Harm. It had nothing to do with him, but what the approaching talk seemed to be doing to Rebecca. Yet, now they were here and delaying the disclosure wouldn't make it any better for anyone.

"Becca, you know the way to the den, if you want," Beth said.

"Thank you, Beth," Rebecca said as she got up from the table and left the room. Harm shot a questioning look at Beth before she motioned for him to follow Rebecca. Going down the hall, he saw her standing in an open doorway halfway to the end. Inside was what looked like a home office, but who's he could not tell. It was only when he was inside and could look at the framed diplomas on the wall that he realized that Beth and Jim shared the room. Rebecca had taken a seat in the leather chair next to the desk, leaving Harm to choose between the other chair and the sofa.

Harm decided on the other chair, which he turned to face Rebecca. She wasn't looking at him at the moment, but was instead focused on her hands and possibly her shoes.

"Rebecca, what did you want to tell me?" Harm asked gently, worry on his face.

"I know you've noticed how I get a little tense sometimes when you touch me and you definitely noticed my overreaction when you used a certain nickname for me," Rebecca said.

Harm stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.

"Well, there's a reason for that. See, when I was 21, I was a senior at the University of Wisconsin, due to graduate in June. In addition to my classes, I was also a lab assistant for one of the professors. He was in his 40s and just seemed like a nice guy. As the semester passed, he started making comments to me, about how nice my outfit was, the style of my hair or my perfume. And at the time, I was so busy with school, that my social life was non-existent. Still, he was too old for me, so I let him know I was flattered but not interested. Only, he wasn't willing to take no for an answer, not in the long run."

Harm wanted to reach out for her, to take her in his arms. He knew, sadly, where the story was going and it angered him that any man would do something like this. Rebecca looked up into his eyes and could see that he knew. Fresh tears rolled from her eyes, as the fear of losing the potential she saw in them took hold. When she was done, would he get up and walk away, she wondered.

"One night, we were working late in the lab, just the two of us. I bent over to get something from the cabinet and the next thing I knew, he had his hand on my behind, caressing it. I tried to move away, but there was nowhere to go. I tried to push him away, but his hands were everywhere and before I knew it, he had me shoved against the work table, with my pants around my ankles and he raped me."

"By the time it was over, I was nearly catatonic. I only remember bits and pieces until the campus police found me in my car. When I reported the rape was when the worst came. The campus police checked the lab and couldn't find any evidence. I was taken to the emergency room and checked out, had a rape kit taken, gave a statement, then nothing for weeks. When I finally got up the courage to ask the campus police about it, I was told the case had been dropped for lack of evidence. Even worse, the professor knew he'd gotten away with it. He started almost taunting me, with 'Bend over, Becky' or 'Can you get that for me, Becky'. I had a breakdown right before spring break and ended up being hospitalized."

"Rebecca, I'm so sorry," Harm said as he slowly, gently took her hand in his. He waited for her to tense up and when she started to, he backed off. Then he slowly moved in again, backing off again as she tensed. "Rebecca, look at me, please."

Rebecca looked into his eyes and saw the compassion there, so the next time his hand took hers, she allowed it.

"What was it the other day that got you crying so much?" Harm asked.

"The thought of us. I mean, look at how I tense sometimes just from your touch. How can we have a deeper relationship with me like this?"

"You mean a physical relationship?"

"Yes. My God, the very thought of sleeping with a man scares the hell out of me, Harm. What if I never get over that," Rebecca said.

"Well, I think we've got a long way to go before we get there, Doc. And if we do get there, I think you'll be ready for us to take that step," Harm told her, smiling gently.

"Oh, and how can you be so sure?"

"Because for us to reach that step, we'll have to trust one another completely. And I believe that if you trust me that much, then you'll welcome my touch and not pull back from it."

"You think we'll get there?" Rebecca asked.

"It's still too early to tell for sure, but I think I'm falling in love with you, Rebecca Lawson," Harm told her. "And if we love each other enough, then we'll get there in good time."

Rebecca just smiled at that, as a few tears slid down her cheeks. But these were tears of happiness, not pain. Was this going to be the man she could finally trust? Harm handed her his handkerchief to dry her eyes before they got up and went into the living room where Beth and Jim were sitting. Beth looked up at the couple expectantly, yet pleased that Rebecca had never called for her and that they were holding hands as they walked.

"So, now you know," Beth said to Harm.

"I know," was his only reply as he stood by Rebecca's side.

"I don't see you racing for the door, Harm," Jim said.

"Not going to happen, not now, not ever if I have my way."

"Good, because I'd have to hunt you down if you hurt Becca," Jim told him.

"Would you not try to intimidate my boyfriend, please," Rebecca said to both Beth and Jim, who simply smiled innocently.

"Doc, take it for what it is, their way of showing that they care about you," Harm told her.

"He's right, Becca. Besides, it's also kind of fun to tease you, just a little," Beth said.

With that, the evening started to end. Harm had a somewhat long drive back to Belleville ahead of him, so he was the first to leave. When he said goodnight to Rebecca, he settled for a loose hug. Now that he understood her issues, he was making sure not to go too far with her. She sensed this and pulled him a little closer, giving him a real hug goodbye.

When he got home almost two hours later, he was thanking his lucky stars that he'd remembered to put a map in the car. The roads from Altoona to Belleville were almost virtually unknown to him, especially in the dark, and he'd managed to take a couple of wrong turns before finally giving in and consulting the map to get him back on the right track.


	9. Chapter 9

January 24, 2004

Rabb Farm – Belleville, Pennsylvania

1133 Eastern

Harm was thrilled that Rebecca had agreed to having lunch here today, rather than going to the movies. When he'd invited her on Thursday, he made a point of telling her that she could invite Beth and Jim to join them if she wanted. This was his way of increasing her comfort at being in a strange house. Rebecca had told him that she would talk with Beth and get back with him. An hour later, she had called to say that they would see him around noon, after which Harm had e-mailed her the address and directions from State College to the farm.

Now, he was working in the kitchen on lunch. His menu was going to be a vegetarian lasagna along with a three bean casserole and a spinach salad. For dessert, he had a Dutch apple pie that he'd put in the oven once the main courses were done cooking. The dining room table was already set for four people, since he was assuming that Jim would be coming as well. Rebecca hadn't been more specific than saying they, so he was simply being prepared.

For drinks, he had some diet sodas and bottle waters. Nothing alcoholic would be served, given that he knew Rebecca had to work that evening as did Beth. With that, he went into the living room briefly to check on the fire he had going. Seeing it was a little low, he added some more wood to get it back up. He was coming to find that he greatly enjoyed having the fire going, even though the house could be adequately heated just from the furnace. Standing in front of it for a moment, he looked at the pictures on the mantel and smiled. He'd found some pictures in the various photo albums and had them framed, along with a couple of his. The first couple were of his grandfather standing next to a trainer that looked a lot like "Sarah", followed by his father and the pile of parts he'd had shipped to the farm before ending with a few shots of Harm and "Sarah". Three generations of Rabb men drawn to the Navy and the air. Only time would tell if there would be a fourth to follow that path, or maybe find a different one.

With that thought, he went back to the kitchen to check on the dishes in the oven. Everything was looking good, so he closed the door and fixed himself a glass of diet soda to drink while he waited for his guests to arrive. The wait, however, was only a matter of moments for no sooner had he sat down at the kitchen table than a knock came at the door. Walking quickly through the house, he opened the door to find Rebecca standing there with a smile on her face. Beth and Jim were behind her, halfway between the house and the big SUV parked in the drive.

Harm held the door as the trio came inside, then took their coats and put them in the parlor before returning to find his guests in the living room.

"This is a great house, Harm," Jim said as he looked around. "How big is it?"

"Well, there's four bedrooms and two baths upstairs. Down here, there's the living room, parlor, dining room, kitchen and bath. That's what my great-grandfather had built after the first house burned down," Harm told them.

"How long has this been in your family, Harm?" Beth asked, as she moved closer to the fireplace.

"Rabbs have been settled around here since the 1800s. I have a few cousins in the next county, though I've only seen them occasionally."

"Is that you?"

Harm looked at the picture she was pointing to.

"No, that's actually my dad. It was taken in 1969, just before he left the farm for the last time. He'd somehow talked my grandmother into letting him store that in the barn until he came home," Harm told her, referring to the pile of metal next to the man.

"What was it?" Rebecca asked, as she and Jim came over to see.

"My dad found an old Navy trainer down in Pensacola. It was being sold for scrap when dad bought it and brought it to the farm. See, his dad had learned to fly in one of those and my dad wanted to restore it as a tribute to his dad."

"Is that it," Jim asked, pointing to the last picture of Harm, his grandmother and "Sarah".

"That's it," Harm confirmed.

"So your dad restored it, then?"

"No, he was shot down in Vietnam. I ended up restoring her about fourteen years ago, when I was here recovering from a bad accident. After the first couple of weeks, my grandmother shooed me out of the house one morning and told me to find something to do other than lying about. Well, I went down to the barn and there she was, a do-it-yourself kit for a Stearman biplane. So, I cleared the area around her and got to work."

"How long did it take you?" Rebecca asked.

"Most of the summer. I knew next to nothing about Stearmans, but I had some tapes my dad had made where he described his plans for her. So, I got a couple of books and used them and those tapes to do the work. When the summer was over, I was due to report back and I had to rush to finish everything before I left," Harm said.

"You still have her?"

"I'll be going back down to get her in the spring. Probably hanger her in State College, since Mister Winters will be farming the pasture."

The oven timer went off then, so Harm showed the others into the dining room before going into the kitchen and removing things from the oven. Once he had carried the items to the table, he returned to put the pie in the oven before taking his seat in the dining room. Everybody helped themselves to what they wanted. The lasagna was quickly finished off, as was the salad. There was still a little of the casserole left at the end of the meal.

The smell of the pie carried from the kitchen as it finished baking, eliciting groans from Beth and Rebecca that were in contrast to the smile on Jim's face. Still, everyone at least had a piece of the pie before things moved back to the living room. Harm took the rocker, while Beth and Jim sat on the couch and Rebecca took a wingback chair next to the rocker.

"That was a great meal, Harm. I've never had vegetarian lasagna before," Jim said.

"I'm curious how you managed to survive in the Navy as a vegetarian?" Beth asked.

"It takes some work, trust me. But it's easier now than it used to be and most of my time was ashore with JAG, not aboard ship," Harm said.

"JAG?"

"That's the Judge Advocates General Corps, the Navy's lawyers and legal staff."

"Interesting work?" Jim asked.

"Sometimes. But for the most part, it's not much different than being a civilian attorney. I've been involved in cases ranging from child abuse to espionage, murders to stolen property to witchcraft," Harm told him.

"Witchcraft, you're pulling our legs," Rebecca said.

"Not at all. There were a group of wiccans on one of the naval bases, turned out the leader was using his position to take advantage of women sexually. My former partner went undercover in the group to get the evidence."

"You must find life in rural Pennsylvania pretty boring after all of that," Beth said.

"Oh, I've found something pretty wonderful here, that I wouldn't have in Washington," Harm said, looking over at Rebecca as he spoke.

"Thank you," was all Rebecca said as she blushed. Beth and Jim quietly shared a look as they saw Harm take Rebecca's hand in his and gently caress it. Beth was happy to see her friend find someone and her initial impressions of Harm were that he would be very good for Rebecca. The two couples sat quietly for a little while, just enjoying the warmth of the room and the company of friends. However, it was soon time for the visitors to leave, so that Beth and Rebecca could get to work that evening. Harm got the coats and handed Jim and Beth theirs before helping Rebecca on with hers.

Harm followed them outside, shaking hands with Jim and Beth before giving Rebecca a gentle hug and kiss on her cheek.

"Have a safe trip back," Harm told them as they got in the SUV. He went back to the porch and watched Jim turn the vehicle around and drive down the driveway. When they were gone, he hurried back inside and settled back in the rocker in front of the fire to warm back up. After a few minutes of rocking, Harm was dozing in the rocker.

January 26, 2004

JAG Headquarters – Falls Church, Virginia

0853 Eastern

Admiral Chegwidden was just walking back to his office from the morning staff meeting, fuming in anger at the childish behavior of one of his senior staff. It had all started when he'd been handing out case assignments. With Mac functioning as his Chief of Staff, it was Commander Turner who was the senior attorney in the office. So, he had assigned Turner the espionage investigation that had come in from Norfolk and assigned Lieutenant Roberts to assist him.

The instant the words were out of his mouth, Chegwidden knew he'd just lit the fuse on something. Bud just sat there looking at his hands, while Turner's face had first flushed white then got much darker than usual. The rest of the room went silent as they could almost see steam coming from the Commander's ears.

"Begging the Admiral's pardon, but would it be possible for me to be assigned another partner for this investigation?" Turner asked, not looking at Bud.

"May I ask why?" Chegwidden asked back.

"I think my lack of trust in the Lieutenant may have an adverse effect on the investigation, Sir. I need someone who can pull their own weight."

Mac's eyes about came out of her head at that comment, so that she had to quickly look down to keep the others from seeing her reaction. Turner was an ass who, if the Admiral supported his request, had just about insured that Bud wouldn't be considered for Lieutenant Commander and be forced out of the Navy by the end of the year after being passed over for a third time. In her mind, Bud was a good officer who continued to surprise her with his skills. She'd much rather have him as her partner than she would Turner, who was narrow-minded and sanctimonious.

The Admiral, in the meantime, was looking between the two officers. This tension between the two men had to stop, or he would have no choice but to transfer one of them. And he knew just who that someone would be. Roberts had proved himself time and again as a loyal man and Chegwidden had already made up his mind that the Lieutenant would be promoted, if he had to call in every last favor he was owed. The navy and JAG especially needed more officers like him.

"No, Commander, you may not have a different partner for this assignment. Considering the computer angle involved, I believe that Lieutenant Roberts will bring valuable skills to the problem. Is that clear?"

"Aye, aye, Sir," Turner said. "Then may I request a different assignment, Sir?"

"No, you may not. With Colonel MacKenzie functioning as my Chief of Staff, you are the senior lawyer. This case needs your rank to get answers, especially from the senior officers down there. That's why you were given the case," Chegwidden replied.

"Very well, Sir."

Both Mac and Chegwidden caught the look the crossed Turner's face, like a kid being served liver and onions with Brussel sprouts. The loathing was directed squarely at Lieutenant Roberts. Bud, for his part, was growing tired of this treatment by the senior officer. Yes, he was responsible for the Commander's reputation taking a hit, but the man needed to stop acting like he was perfect. Everyone made mistakes and if their positions had been reversed, Bud would have forgiven him. Now, he was going to be stuck partnered with the man down at Norfolk for who knew how many days and nobody around to run interference for him.

Fortunately for the Admiral, that was the only case that had needed to be assigned, so he was able to conclude the meeting almost immediately afterwards. What he didn't realize was that the look on his face more than adequately conveyed his mood and so the rest of the staff avoided him as he walked from the conference room to his office. Petty Officer Coates snapped to attention as he walked past without a glance, closing the door behind him and going rapidly to his desk. He quickly pulled open a desk drawer and removed a bottle of aspirin. Removing the top, he shook three pills out into his hand and swallowed them, before briefly closing his eyes and trying to relax.

The current situation was just another example of how much the office was falling apart. Chegwidden didn't necessarily want to admit it, but the reason for it was becoming more obvious every day. Rabb had been the glue that had held things together. Whether as a friend, a mentor or simply a sounding board, he had been able to get the people in the office to work together. Now, Turner was mostly concerned about his own career, Roberts was trying to do his best while being the low man on the totem pole and treated as such, and Mac was separated from the rest by her position.

Chegwidden had once heard Harm and Mac called Batman and Robin, but to him that didn't necessarily fit the pair. There was no junior partner in their team, as each was equally capable of taking the lead. Rather he thought of them more as Captain Kirk and Mister Spock, because where Harm was often controlled by his emotions, Mac was the more logical of the pair. Yet, on those occasions when her emotions did take over, he was there to apply logic and reason to the situation.

Chegwidden almost laughed as he realized he was living out the true meaning of the statement "Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it." Well, he had wanted Harm gone, telling him when he'd tried to come back after rescuing Mac that he should go wrestle alligators or drive a taxi. Now, however, he found himself cursing his stupidity. No matter the occasional headaches the man had caused, they were nothing compared to this.

Opening his eyes, Chegwidden looked at the pill bottle for a moment before closing it and dropping it back into the drawer. He made a mental note to get some more on his way home tonight. At the rate he was going through them, maybe he should invest in the company that made the brand he bought. That thought occasioned a slight smile before it disappeared as he took in the stack of paperwork that was awaiting him.

Criminal Justice Class – Penn State University

1802 Eastern

Harm was just finishing the lesson for the day, as he wrote a few last things on the chalkboard before turning back to the class.

"So, when dealing with a criminal case, the most important thing to remember is what?" he asked.

"Chain of custody for the evidence," remarked a woman in the second row.

"Close, but not quite."

"Admissibility of the evidence," came a man's voice.

"Correct. Now, why is that the answer and not chain of custody?" Harm asked.

"Because the chain of custody is only one thing that may or may not make the evidence admissible."

"Excellent. What else might affect that? And someone else this time."

"Whether the search was lawful or not," came a new voice more towards the back.

"Precisely. Remember 'Fruit of the Poisonous Tree', everybody. If the information used to get that evidence was illegal, all of the evidence disappears. Though, please bear in mind there are exceptions to that which we will cover later in the semester. For now, just remember you only get one shot at doing things right. That's why it's important for those of you thinking about becoming prosecutors to make sure the police are doing things by the book. And other reasons?" Harm asked, looking around at the blank faces.

"The suspect not being properly advised of his rights," came a familiar voice from the back of the room. Harm immediately tried to spot the speaker but couldn't.

"Correct and this is the leading cause of the previous problem, people. If the suspect confesses but wasn't advised of his or her rights, you've got to immediately advise them of their rights and get them to confess again afterwards. Failure to do so can be seized upon by the defense counsel to get any evidence arising from the confession thrown out along with the confession. This is also why a lot of police departments are investing in video equipment to record interviews, so that they have a visual record of the reading of the rights, the confession and everything else. Alright, next assignment is on the board, due a week from today. See you all on Wednesday."

As the students began packing up and filing out of the room, Harm waited at the front until it was just him and one last person. A smile came to his face as the man stood and walked down to him. Harm shook hands with Victor Galindez before leaning back against the table and waiting.

"We found Miss Johnson this morning," Victor told him. "I'm embarrassed it to us this long, quite frankly. She was living in a space above the hanger, sneaking out at night to scrounge some food then going back."

"How's she doing?" Harm asked.

"Mad at us because we found her. The foster family they've got her with isn't the worst I've seen, but I wouldn't recommend them for parents of the year either. All in all, I felt sorry for her, Sir. She just needs someone in her life who cares about her and she's not going to get that in the system."

"That's what I was afraid of, Victor."

"We've both seen it, what happens to kids in the system. Sure, a few get lucky and find a great situation, but too many end up as just another check for the foster parents to cash each month and neglected the rest of the time if not treated worse. Her family has seven other kids that they're taking care of, which is about five more than they should have if you ask me," Victor told him.

"Thanks for finding her, Victor," Harm told him.

"De nada, Sir. You've had my back in the past, as well as Webb's. This was the least we could do as a thanks. Also, I talked to the sheriff down there and as a professional courtesy, he said he'd try and keep an eye on Miss Johnson for me. If anything else happens, I'll do what I can."

"You back stateside now?"

"I'm actually going to Virginia Tech on the company's dime," Victor said with a smile. "I have to finish my degree if I want to stay with them, Webb told me. So, I'm a college student for the next year or so. Besides, after all the excitement of the last couple of years, I could stand a little down time."

"I can certainly appreciate that," Harm said, thinking back over the two plus years since September 11, 2001. So many things had changed, so much had happened both to them and their country. Victor Galindez had been on the front line for some of that, before going to work for the CIA to work in the shadows. As for Harm, there was the dirty nuke, Singer's murder and his trial followed by Paraguay and his resignation and those were just the more recent, major events.

"So what are you doing here, Sir?"

"I'm teaching, you caught the class remember?"

"I'm being serious. I know you said you resigned to go after the Colonel and all, but I would have thought you'd be back at JAG with another medal on your chest and a pat on the back from the Admiral," Victor said, watching the other man's face.

"Oh, quite the opposite happened," Harm said with a chuckle that even now contained more than its share of bitterness. "After we got back, I went with Mac to JAG. She reported back and I asked for permission to do the same. Turns out, Admiral fast tracked my resignation and I had been a civilian for 72 hours by that point."

Victor raised his eyebrows at that. He had been almost certain that the "resignation" had been a cover, so that if Harm was caught down there he was just some private citizen rather than the start of a military invasion. To find out now that he had actually resigned shook the former enlisted man to the core. One simply didn't let good officers leave if it could be helped and to his mind, the Admiral should have never officially processed that paperwork.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Sir."

"Don't be, Victor. The way I see it, if I hadn't left JAG I never would have met Mattie and who knows how her situation would have turned out. And if I hadn't started teaching here, I never would have really met the woman I'm now dating. So, maybe everything happened for a reason, you know?"

"I hear that," Victor said with a smile, before looking at his watch. "I've got to hit the road, Sir. I've got class tomorrow, so I need to head back to Blacksburg. And don't worry about Miss Johnson, I'll keep an eye on her as best I can."

"Thanks again, Victor. Next time, call though. Save yourself the six hour drive," Harm told him.

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't have got to see you in the classroom, 'Professor'."

Harm laughed too as the two men left the room and Harm closed the door. Once outside, they went their separate ways. Harm was feeling better now, knowing that Mattie was alright.


	10. Chapter 10

January 30, 2004

JAG Headquarters – Falls Church, Virginia

0704 Eastern

As Admiral Chegwidden came through the doors to JAG Ops, he was surprised to see that both Commander Turner and Lieutenant Roberts were already here. Less of a surprise was the light on in Colonel MacKenzie's office, as he knew she usually come in around 0630. And the hour wasn't the only surprise, in that their presence must have meant that the investigation down in Norfolk was wrapped up.

Sure enough, when he reached his outer office, he found a large envelope in the In box. Picking it up, he carried it through to his office and opened it. The report with its attached documents was even larger than he had suspected, so that it took him almost half an hour just to read the report. By the time the Admiral had finished, he was wearing a look that mixed astonished and incensed. Going back to the beginning, he read through a second time before picking up his phone and calling Mac's extension. When she answered, he asked to see her immediately.

Given his tone, Mac walked quickly from her office to the Admiral's, not even pausing to knock but rather going straight in. Taking the seat across from the desk that he indicated, she settled in and read the report he handed her. The Admiral avoided looking at her while she read, trying to get his face under control as well as his emotions themselves. When he felt he had succeeded, he did looked over to see the surprised look on hers.

"I take it you've noticed what I noticed," Admiral Chegwidden said.

"I…I…what the hell, Admiral?" Mac finally just blurted out, unable to stop it from escaping.

"Colonel, correct me if I'm wrong, but I sent Commander Turner and Lieutenant Roberts down there together with the clear expectation that they were working together. I used the term partner, did I not? So perhaps you can think of a reason why this report appears to have been written entirely by the Commander and without any input from the Lieutenant? Because I certainly can't."

"I don't know, Sir. What worries me is we know there was a computer-related aspect to the alleged espionage, but this report doesn't even cover that. Have you looked at the attachments, Sir?"

"Briefly and I didn't see anything in there," the Admiral said.

"Have you spoken with either Commander Turner or Lieutenant Roberts about this, Sir?" Mac asked before realizing that this was probably the first he'd seen the report and that he'd called her in first.

"No, I have not. But I intend to right now."

The Admiral picked up his phone and asked Commander Turner to come see him. When he was done, he looked at Mac.

"Go talk to the Lieutenant. I think he'll talk a little more freely to you than to me."

"Aye, aye, Sir."

Mac and Sturgis crossed paths in the bullpen and he gave her a quizzical look as she kept going. The one good thing about where Bud's office was now located was that it was on the way to the break room, so she moved towards that and picked up a cup of coffee before going to see Bud. Knocking on the closed doorway, she saw his head come up from looking at the computer screen and wave her in before doing something on the computer.

"'Morning, Bud," Mac said with a smile, one that wasn't answered by the other man. "Are you alright?"

"No, Ma'am," Bud answered softly.

"What's wrong?"

"Commander Turner, Ma'am. From the moment we left here until we got back late last night, he treated me like a cross between gopher and luggage. We'd do an interview and before the person showed up, he'd tell me to keep my mouth shut and let him do the talking. If I thought of something and started to ask a question or make a comment, he'd snap out a 'Lieutenant, I told you to stay silent. That was an order.'"

"Why didn't you call me or the Admiral? He sent you down there for a reason," Mac said.

"All that would have done was made things worse, Ma'am. You heard the Admiral when he gave out the assignment, it was going to be me and Commander Turner. How do you think the Commander would have reacted after a phone call from the Admiral about a complaint from me?" Bud asked. Mac's answer was plain to see on her face, so he went on. "Yeah, that's what I thought too. So, I just tried to do my best and dig when I could. But even when I found something, the Commander ignored it. So, now I'm putting together a separate report for the Admiral on what I found, to supplement the report the Commander submitted."

"I'm going to have to tell the Admiral about this, Bud. You know that, right?"

"It doesn't matter, Ma'am."

Something in Bud's eyes troubled Mac. She'd seen a lot out of the man in almost six years, but she'd never seen this. This was the look of someone who'd been broken and the damage looked to be permanent in nature.

"Bud, don't do anything you'll regret later," Mac cautioned.

"No, Ma'am. Harriet and I had a long talk last night when I got home. Well, actually, Harriet did most of the talking and I did the listening. JAG isn't home anymore, Ma'am. Not like it once was. I've always been the junior man around here, but not until recently did I ever feel like it. You, Commander Rabb and even the Admiral, you all treated me with respect, even when I was making some really big mistakes. You listened to me, you cared about me. Now, there's Commander Turner who acts like I'm a turd he found on his lawn and Major McBurney who barely even looks at me. So, I'm going to opt for the medical retirement they offered when I lost my leg. Harriet and I are moving down to Florida to be closer to her family and I'll have my disability money to help out while I take the state bar exam down there and find a job," Bud told her.

"Bud, please, talk to the Admiral before you do that. I'm asking as your friend. Resigning is a big step to take, especially after everything you did to stay in."

"I'll talk to him, Ma'am. Just don't get your hopes up for me changing my mind."

Looking out of the office, she saw that Commander Turner was just leaving the Admiral's outer office. She turned back to Bud.

"Do you have your report printed out?" she asked.

"Not yet," he told her.

"Print it now and then come join me in the Admiral's office."

With that she left and walked back through the bullpen. Stopping in front of the Admiral's door, she knocked and waited for his call to enter. When it came, she moved quickly inside and made straight for his desk.

"I've got Lieutenant Roberts about a minute behind me, Admiral. I talked to him and it's worse than we thought. He's planning on seeking a disability retirement and leaving, Sir," Mac told him.

"And what did he have to say about Norfolk?" Chegwidden asked, to buy time to think.

"That Commander Turner treated him like a gopher and ignored him the rest of the time. Any time Lieutenant Roberts tried to do something, he was told to shut up and stay silent, Sir."

At that moment, Bud appeared in the doorway. The Admiral motioned for him to enter and close the door behind him. He noticed that the younger man had two folders in his hands and frowned.

"What exactly happened down in Norfolk, Lieutenant?" Chegwidden said as he stood up.

Bud repeated exactly what he had told Mac before handing over the folder containing his own report. Chegwidden took it and opened it, so that he could quickly read it. As he went through the pages, he nodded his head. This filled in several of the gaps from Commander Turner's own report and more than answered some glaring questions that he had just raked the Commander over the coals about. When he got to the end of the report, he found copies of the evidence that supported Bud's conclusions.

"I only have one question for you, Lieutenant. Why didn't you call me and let me know the extent of the problem between yourself and Commander Turner? Why did it have to get this far?"

"Given your orders before we left here, Sir, what good would my complaining have done?" Bud asked in return. "You wanted me down there for my special knowledge and you needed the Commander there to use his rank to move the investigation along. As far as I could see, all a call concerning a complaint from me would have done is made matters even worse."

"Quite possibly, Lieutenant. But on the other hand, I can't fix things that I don't know about. Specifically, Colonel MacKenzie tells me you're thinking about seeking a disability discharge. Well, that's something I would assume is tied to Commander Turner's attitude towards you or am I wrong?"

"No, Sir, you're not wrong about that."

"See, if you had called, I could have done something to prevent things from reaching this point. Also, I had wanted to have another talk with you, more in the nature of career guidance," Chegwidden said.

"Why, Sir? I've been passed over for Lieutenant Commander twice now and I doubt this year will be any different, which means three strike and I'm out," Bud said.

"Well, a large part of the reason you were passed over last time was your injury. A couple of people on the board let me know privately that they worried about giving a slot to you when they couldn't be certain you'd still be in the Navy at the end of the year. That has changed and I believe that the promotion board will see your record without considering the injury as a factor."

"That's very kind of you to say that, Sir. But it doesn't change anything for me. Even if I managed to get promoted to Lieutenant Commander, I couldn't continue here, Sir."

"Exactly, Lieutenant. In my opinion, you need a change so that you can advance your career. How does SJA at NAS Key West sound? I seem to recall that your in-laws live in Naples, about five hours away?" Chegwidden said.

"I'll have to talk with Harriet, Sir," Bud said.

"Nothing pressing, Lieutenant. Get back with me, say on Monday."

"Aye, aye, Sir."

"Very well, dismissed," Chegwidden told him, standing as did both Mac and Bud. He waited until Bud had left the office and closed the door before waving Mac back to her seat.

"That's the easy one, Colonel. Now I have to make a decision about Commander Turner."

"If I may, Sir," Mac said. Seeing the Admiral nod, she continued. "After our talk last week, I looked at the overall manning situation for JAG. I may have found a slot tailor made for someone as by-the-book as Commander Turner."

"If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, I've already considered it. The only question is the amount of damage he could do as an instructor at the Naval Justice School, given his treatment of Lieutenant Roberts," Chegwidden said.

"I understand that. However, I don't think we can reassign the Lieutenant without Turner forming the opinion that his actions are being endorsed by you, Sir. Furthermore, there are few positions for someone of his rank where the possibilities for even greater damage exist. The only other O-5 postings available are either as FJA, which would be something of a promotion and again send the wrong signal, or as deputy SJA to one of the joint commands or the Joint Chiefs."

"Put the paperwork together for me, Colonel, and I'll figure out where to send him and have the orders cut. And expedite things."

"Aye, aye, Sir," Mac said as she braced before leaving the office. She was sorry to see Bud go, but knew it was for the best. As for Sturgis, she had to hold the grin in as she contemplated that smug ass getting what he deserved. The problem was, with the departure of both officers, JAG was going to be even more short staffed that ever. And that meant that the Admiral was going to have to find some replacements and fast. Of course, finding a replacement for a Lieutenant was going to be much easier than finding a full Commander.

January 31, 2004

Rabb Farm – Belleville, Pennsylvania

1312 Eastern

Harm and Rebecca were just finishing lunch, with him clearing the table while she had the last of her tomato soup. She had driven out this morning to spend the day with him, since neither of them had been especially enthused at the movies playing this weekend. Harm had taken pains to warn her that things were pretty dull on the farm, but she hadn't seen him since last weekend and wanted to spend the time together.

When she had arrived, they'd settled onto the couch in the living room and talked about their week. As they sat, Harm took Rebecca's hand in his and gently caressed it, gauging her reactions. After her revelation, he had decided to work on getting her used to his touch. So, he intended to work his way from her fingers and hand to her forearm and elbow, stop instantly when she resisted.

Once they were done talking about the week, Harm started on the upcoming Spring Break. It was over a month away, but he had a number of things that he wanted to do and he hoped that she'd join him. The first one would depend on the weather, since it involved flying 'Sarah' up from Virginia. That would probably be a day trip, followed by another to retrieve the car they took down and pick up his Corvette. That would probably involve taking a flight from State College to Washington, getting his Corvette out of storage first before picking up the other car in Manassas.

"Do you have any plans for the break?" Harm asked.

"No. Why, did you have something in mind?" Rebecca asked back.

"Well, I want to go down to Washington and get the last couple of things that need to come up here. I thought you might like to come with me."

"Ah, so you're looking for some free labor."

"No, not much labor involved here, other than doing some driving," Harm assured her. "See, I've still got 'Sarah' down there, as well as my Corvette."

Harm hid his smile as Rebecca's eye lit up at the word Corvette.

"I'll help you as long as I get to drive the Corvette back," she told him.

"That's a mighty steep price to pay for a little bit of driving."

"Take it or leave it, Mister."

"Just remember, you're responsible for any tickets and damage," Harm teased her, thinking about her driving. He really didn't have any worries on that score, pretty certain she could handle the sports car.

"I won't as much as scratch your car, Harm," Rebecca told him. "So, I'll have to make two drives down?"

"No. I think we'll go down on say Monday, leave my Lexus and fly 'Sarah' back. Then on Tuesday, we'll fly down from State College to Dulles, pick up my Corvette in Washington and the Lexus from Manassas. Depending on how late it is when we get that all done, get a hotel in Washington for the night and drive back in the morning. And before you even ask, if we get a hotel it will be separate rooms."

"I honestly wasn't going to ask," she told him as she smiled at him. And she hadn't because she trusted Harm to not go further than she was ready for.

"As for the rest of that week, I thought we could fly down to Florida and get a couple days away," Harm told her.

"Is this just your way of getting me into a bikini?"

"No. I was actually thinking Disney World, just doing the tourist thing while spending some fun time with you. See, no bikini necessary, unless you want to lay out by the pool and work on your tan instead of seeing Epcot or the Magic Kingdom."

"What and miss getting you a set of Mickey Mouse ears with Harmon on the back?" Rebecca teased while also somewhat relieved.

"On second thought," Harm started to say before seeing the huge grin on Rebecca's face.

"That sounds very nice, Harm. Thanks."

"Alright then, remember to clear your schedule for the week of March eighth. I'll get the tickets and we'll fly down that Thursday, with a return on Sunday."

"Why Thursday, Harm? If we get your plane on Monday and the car on Tuesday, why not just leave on Wednesday?" Rebecca asked.

"Well, if the weather is bad on Monday, then getting 'Sarah' will have to be pushed back to Tuesday or maybe even Wednesday if it's really bad," Harm told her.

"And what happens if you can't fly until after it's time for us to leave for Florida?"

"Then I'll have to pick a weekend later on to either drive down or fly down and get her. No sense in having a plane and not flying her. I mean, that's like having a car you never drive or a house that you don't live in."

"Boys and their toys," Rebecca muttered under her breath.

"Very funny," Harm said, having heard every word.

With that, the couple settled back on the couch into a comfortable silence. Once he could see that she was relaxed, Harm wrapped his arm around her and Rebecca snuggled a little closer to him. Harm still kept the touch gentle, not wanted her to feel trapped, but he did tighten it little by little over the next hour or so, until he had her in a full hug. Rebecca could sense what he was doing and was content to see whether he would stop first or she would stop him. When he was done, she silently applauded herself for not flinching before realizing that she hadn't even wanted to.

Sarah MacKenzie's Apartment – Georgetown

1936 Eastern

Mac and Clay were sitting on the couch, drinking coffee after dinner. Clay had made beef stroganoff with rice and side salads, which Mac had been busy going through paperwork. With the Admiral's decision to reassign both Bud and Turner, she was looking for potential replacements to recommend to the Admiral. Bud's had been relatively easy, as there were a number of O-3 and O-4 grade JAGs who would love the chance to show their potential.

The search for an O-5 was proving to be much more of a problem. Especially when one considered that wherever she found that person, she would have to find a replacement for them. So, what was the transfer of one person was actually the movement of several, as the various dominos fell. And there was the additional problem of not wanting to place Turner in a post where he was in charge. That ruled out an SJA billets or FJA positions as well.

After two hours of searching, Mac believed that she had finally found a solution. The best part was that, if the Admiral signed off on it, she had potentially found her replacement as Chief of Staff as well. She could transfer the SJA from the Joint Chiefs, who was a Marine Colonel. His current deputy could be promoted to the SJA posting and Turner could be made the deputy SJA. And, if the Colonel was assigned to JAG Headquarters he would have to be made the Chief of Staff since he outranked Mac. Which would allow her to do what she preferred, which was handle cases and investigations.

Writing down her recommendations, she continued to search until Clay announced that dinner was ready. She was hoping to find at least one more possibility other than sending Turner to NJS as an instructor and transferring one the current instructors here. Her biggest problem with that was the same as the Admiral's, the amount of potential damage the man could do in that position.

"So, how was your week, Clay?" she asked now.

"Busy, very busy," Clay told her.

"Anything you can talk about?"

"Actually, I can this time. Remember around Christmas when you were upset about my not taking the desk job at Langley because I wanted to get back into the field?"

"Yes, I remember," Mac replied, nodding her head.

"Well, I needed to do that for myself. After Paraguay and Fahd, I was afraid I'd lost something inside me. That's why I needed to get back out there. Well, after London, my bosses came to me again. This time I accepted the job. I'm the new deputy director of the National Counterterrorism Center, starting on Monday," Clay told her.

"I'm glad, Clay. But are you?"

"I'll answer your question if you'll answer one from me first, Sarah. If I had stayed in the field, would our relationship have had any chance of lasting?"

"Probably not, Clay. The lies and secrets and not know where you are or for how long, all of that would have gotten to me eventually. But I also know you loved what you did and I don't want you to regret this later on," Mac told him.

"No regrets, Sarah. I did enjoy being an operations officer, but it was also a lonely existence. Now, I have a chance to have a complete life, maybe with a family," Clay added with a smile.

"Don't get ahead of yourself there, secret agent man. We'll discuss 'family' when you've put a ring on my finger."

Clay had to laugh at that.

"That's something we'll have time to work on now. I got briefed in on my duties yesterday and about 95 percent of my time will be in Washington. Only the occasionally conference out of town and I'll be able to give you details before I go. Now, how was your week?"

"Eventful, to say the least. Bud and Commander Turner are having major issues and it finally reached a boiling point. So now, I'm trying to find a new posting for the Commander and Bud is being transferred to Key West as the SJA," Mac told him.

"That's going to make the understaffing at JAG HQ even worse, isn't it?" Clay asked.

"Not necessarily. I've already lined up a couple of Lieutenants for the Admiral to select Bud's replacement from, as well as a new admin officer to replace Harriet. The problem is Commander Turner. The Admiral may be playing musical chairs to get a replacement here, while also finding a position for Turner to serve out his twenty in or get the message and resign before then."

"What brought this on?"

"Turner blames Bud for not better defending his reputation in a case that was ordered retried due to ineffective counsel on Turner's part. Since then, he's been riding Bud's ass and making derogatory comments about Bud every chance he gets. Then, this week the Admiral sent the two of them down to Norfolk as a team. Well, Turner told Bud to keep his mouth shut and ignored anything Bud found. So, when they got back, Bud was ready to resign. The Admiral talked him out of it, but after hearing Bud out, he decided to give Bud a change of scenery. As for Turner, he needs to go before he forms the opinion that Bud's transfer is a sign that he was in the right," Mac told him.

Clay kept quiet for several moments. His early impression of Bud had been that the man was way out of his depth at JAG. Over the years that had changed, as he'd watched from a distance as the man grew into a competent lawyer and a wonderful husband and father. While Clay would never admit it to anyone, he envied Bud because Bud had never had to be anything but what he was. Sarah and Harm both respected him, which spoke volumes. Jennifer Coates looked at Bud like he was her big brother. The Admiral at times treated Bud and Harriet like they were his children.

"A lot of changes to JAG," Clay said quietly.

"A wise man once said that change is the way of life."

"Indeed it is, Sarah. Just don't tell me that one of those changes involves you, alright?"

"Not at the moment, but I can't guarantee the future," Mac said with a smile.

"Right now is all I'm concerned with at the moment," Clay told her as he pulled her in for a deep kiss.


	11. Chapter 11

March 8, 2004

Manassas Regional Airport – Manassas, Virginia

1248 Eastern

Harm stretched out after the drive down from State College. He'd picked Rebecca up from her condo at 8 and stopped outside of Frederick to fill up the tank. Rebecca had brought a book along to read, while also carrying on a conversation with Harm throughout the drive. So, the time passed relatively quickly, all things considered. As for the weather, it was absolutely gorgeous and would be perfect for the flight back.

The only possible downside was if it got dark earlier than Harm thought they would get to State College, he would be facing the prospect of a night landing on an unfamiliar field. Still, the airport was fully manned and the runway would be lit, so he would be able to find it once they got close. And while the Stearman might lack modern conveniences like a GPS or radio navigation system, Harm was more than well trained in the plane and navigation. So, he foresaw no problems getting home.

Once they were out of the car, Harm and Rebecca removed their bags from the back seat before walking through the gate and heading for the hanger housing his aircraft. As they got closer, they could see that the yellow biplane had more than her fair share of admirers watching as the plane was fueled. One of the men saw them approaching and moved towards them.

"Good to see you again, Mister Rabb. We've got her just about fueled, so give us 10 minutes and we'll have you on your way," he said.

"Much appreciated, Mister Boyd. While you're finishing up, I'll head into the office and take care to the bill," Harm replied.

"Barb's got it all ready for you."

Harm and Rebecca went through the door marked 'Office' and saw that Barb was indeed ready for them, with a smile on her face and a credit card machine by her side. Harm and Barb went over the bill, with Harm nodding as she pointed various items out. Then he removed his wallet and handed over a card for her to run. Once it went through, he signed for the charges and thanked the woman before leaving.

When they returned to 'Sarah', Harm helped Rebecca get dressed for the flight. Last weekend, he taken her shopping to buy a few things he knew she'd need. Now, he had her take off her coat and put on a flannel shirt over her shirt and then put the coat on over that. He also had her put on gloves and a stocking cap. Once she had that all on, he made sure that he skin was completely covered before turning to his own preparations, which were almost identical to hers.

With that all done, Harm helped Rebecca climb into the front cockpit and got her strapped in tight. He then showed her how to put on the radio headset and work the microphone, telling her not to touch it until they were well in the air as he would need to talk with the tower as they taxied and took off. Rebecca nodded her head as she looked at Harm with slightly wide eyes, the excitement of the moment getting to her.

Once he was certain she was ready, Harm climbed back onto the ground and began a detailed walk around. Only when he had checked everything and was satisfied that the plane was safe did he climb into the rear cockpit and get himself set up. Looking out, he was relieved to see that everyone had moved away. Still, he called out the customary command of "Clear".

"Clear," came the immediate response for Mister Boyd.

Harm pressed the starter and listened as the plane came to life. To his ear, the engine sounded sweet. He felt five times more alive than he had just moments ago, as the excitement built to a roar within him. This was what flying had always done for him, something that no one else had ever understood except for his fellow aviators.

"Manassas tower, Stearman N53153. On the ramp, requesting taxi and takeoff for VFR flight, over," Harm called.

"Stearman 153, Manassas tower. Copy. Take taxiway 3L to runway 34L. You are number 1 for takeoff. Following takeoff, climb and maintain 3,500. Over," the controller called back.

"Taxiway 3L to runway 34L. Number one for takeoff, climb and maintain 3,500. Roger."

With that, Harm began the slow Stearman crab off the ramp and down the taxiway to 3L, where he turned for the runway. He could see that the tower had some experience with either Stearmans or something similar, since he had been assigned the shorter of the two runways. Still, Harm knew he had more than enough room, so he lined up with the centerline and stood on the brakes while he ran up the engine to full power. The yellow trainer shook a little, but Harm concentrated on the sound of the engine. The last thing he needed was something to go wrong on takeoff, when he didn't have the speed or altitude for recovery. After a moment, he was satisfied that everything was as it should be and released the brakes.

After takeoff, Harm brought the plane up to 3,500 and leveled her off, while also steering a course towards State College. When he had 'Sarah' on roughly the right course, he reached into his coat pocket and removed the folded up map he had brought. It was liberally covered with notes he'd made over the weekend as he had plotted out the flight, bearing in mind the restrictions that covered the Washington area. In a few minutes, he'd have to turn west so that he could avoid restricted airspace and fly that way for about ten minutes, then he could turn back to the north.

"How you doing?" Harm called over the intercom, raising his voice to be heard over the sound of the wind.

"Oh my God! This is unbelievable," Rebecca called back. "I've never flown in a small plane before, just airliners."

"You want to do some acrobatics along the way?"

"Yes, please!"

Harm decided to start slowly, so that he could try and gauge how his passenger was handling the experience. First, he did a couple of rolls, then leveled off. The grin he saw in her mirror reassured him, so he moved on to doing a loop followed by a stall. The scream of delight she gave brought a huge smile to Harm's face. He gave her a couple of more loops, then some more rolls before knocking things off.

It was getting later and Harm needed to start watching his fuel. That little playtime hadn't made a huge dent in the fuel, but he didn't want to be too low when he got near State College. A dead stick landing wasn't something he wanted to do today. Plus, he had to factor in the deviation west into his mental fuel calculations. While his Stearman had a 46 gallon tank, he knew from experience that he really only had 39 gallons available. The plane burned 12 gallons an hour cruising at 95 mph, so he had a range of roughly 300 miles. Manassas to State College was right around 230 miles, so about 2 and a half hours. Harm then added in the about thirty minutes he'd spent doing acrobatics and knew he was cutting things close.

Looking at the map, he saw some options. He could land in a number of places along the way, starting with Hagerstown or Frederick, and put on some gas. The problem with that was the time. Harm wanted to reach State College before it was dark and if they stopped for gas, that wouldn't be possible. Looking past Rebecca's head, he could see the sight gauge for the tank. Nodding his head, he looked down at the map and started searching for landmarks. After a few moments, he spotted a pair of rivers off to his right. Looking back at the map, he smiled as he recognized it as Hagerstown.

Putting the information together, he knew that fuel wasn't going to be the problem he'd thought it would be. He was surprised at how far west of his intended track he was, before realizing he'd never corrected for having to fly west around the Washington area to avoid the restricted airspace. So, now that he knew where he was, he adjusted his course a little towards the east. He figured about an hour and a half would see them to their destination and leave about a half hours' worth of fuel remaining.

"Is this what flying does to you?" Rebecca asked from the front cockpit.

"What do you mean?"

"I feel more alive than I have in forever, yet I also feel totally relaxed, too."

"I agree on the feeling alive. I feel that way every time I take off. Relaxed, not so much. Maybe it comes from being a pilot, but I'm almost always totally focused when I'm in the air. One mistake up here is one too many."

"I can understand that. It's that I'm just enjoying the experience, not having to figure out where we are and how long until we get where we're going," Rebecca said.

"Well, we've just passed Hagerstown. I put us about ninety minutes or so from State College, so we should be home in time for dinner," Harm told her with a laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"Just that I'm coming to think of Belleville and State College as home. Even when my grandmother was alive, I never thought of it in those terms."

Rebecca decided to remain silent while Harm processed that thought.

"Home wasn't really anywhere, when I was growing up. I never really accepted that my dad was gone and when mom married Frank, I began to look for any excuse not to be home. In the summers, mom would send me to Grandma Sarah's just to have some peace, I think. And as much as she loved having me there, I know it hurt her sometimes too. Especially as I got older and looked more and more like my dad. She cried the day I told her I was going to the Academy, even though she tried to hide it from me," Harm said.

"I know you said your dad was shot down in Vietnam, but you've never talked about your grandfather. What happened to him?" Rebecca asked.

"He was a naval aviator too. He was shot down at Midway in 1942."

"No wonder your grandmother was upset about you going to the Academy. She'd already lost her husband and son in the Navy, she didn't want to lose her grandson too."

Harm didn't respond to that, having no real answer to the truth he had just heard. Besides, it was something he'd already known. Her fears had been similar to his mother's, about the thought of another young Rabb making the ultimate sacrifice for his country. Harm had at least managed not to continue that tradition, though he had come close a time or two. Or ten.

University Park Airport – State College, Pennsylvania

1621 Eastern

Harm stretched after helping two mechanics push 'Sarah' into the hanger he'd rented. The flight had been uneventful, with not a single problem from the plane. So, he took the log from the luggage compartment and noted the flight, giving the date and time and both departure and arrival airports. Looking things through, he saw that a hundred hour inspection was coming due, so he made a note to have the mechanics handle that while he and Rebecca were gone for the week. That way, he could go flying again when they returned.

Harm had checked his schedule and knew he'd have plenty of time available to go up, either on the days that he actually taught or on his days off. Now that he'd seen how Rebecca had taken to it, he would have to make certain to include her in some of those flights. For now, he joined her by the doors and picked up her bag. Together, they walked over to the gate in the fence that allowed pilots to leave the airport and enter the parking area. However, since Harm had picked her up that morning and his car was down in Manassas, they kept walking over to the passenger terminal. There, they caught a taxi over to Rebecca's condo. Getting out, Harm paid the taxi while Rebecca went to her door and opened it.

"Well, after that long journey, how about we call for some delivery and just relax?" Rebecca said to him.

Harm just looked at her for a moment before nodding his head and walking to her door. This would be the first time he'd ever been into her residence, something he considered a major milestone. Once he crossed the threshold, he sat the bags on the floor and looked around. The living room was very minimalistic, with only a love seat and recliner for sitting. Both were angled to face the television, sharing an end table between them.

Through an opening in the wall, he could see into the kitchen. The walls were a light beige, with a lower half that was woodwork. The floors were hardwood, he thought. Or possibly laminate.

"Why don't you sit down, Harm?" Rebecca asked.

"Thanks," he said as he took the love seat, leaving her the choice of joining him or taking the recliner.

"I'll be right back with the menus I have."

Harm watched her go into the kitchen, from which she returned shortly with a cordless telephone and a small stack of paper menus. She gave them to Harm, since she knew most of them by heart. Rebecca had never found much joy in cooking for one, so she often ordered in.

"How does Chinese sound?" Harm asked.

"Great," Rebecca told him. "What sounds good to you?"

"I'll have an order of the vegetable lo mein. How about you?"

"I think I'll have Beef with Broccoli and fried rice."

Rebecca called the restaurant and ordered for them. Harm reached for his wallet but Rebecca ignored him as she paid for the order with her credit card. She smiled sweetly at the look on his face, well remembering his thoughts about who paid when they were together. As far as she was concerned, she was the one who'd invited him in, she was the one who suggested they order in and she would be the one to pay tonight.

Harm saw the look on Rebecca's face and correctly guessed her thoughts. He was fine with letting her pay tonight, since he'd paid for the trip down to Manassas as well as their upcoming trip to Orlando. If he kept paying for everything, eventually she'd burst in frustration.

"Are you all set for Disney World, Becca?"

"I've been packed since Saturday. I'm so excited, nervous, scared…."

"I can understand the excited, but why nervous and scared?" Harm asked, although he suspected the reason.

"I've never gone away for a weekend with someone before," Rebecca confessed as she looked at her hands.

"Well, let's review, alright? We're going together, but I've reserved separate rooms for us. So, see, there's no pressures, no expectations. Remember what I told you when we first started dating and you told me what happened? You set the pace on this, so until you tell me you want to go from two rooms to one, I'm going to assume two."

"Harm, you're too good to me, with my damage and baggage."

"Rebecca, nobody gets to our age without some baggage. Some of us are just better at hiding it than others, some have more to try to carry. So don't go thinking I'm perfect or too good for you, because I know I'm far from either," Harm told her.

The doorbell rang before she could ask the questions that had flooded her mind at those words. Getting up, she answered it and collected their dinner, making certain to tip the delivery person. When the door was closed, Rebecca carried the packages into the kitchen. She got a couple of plates from the cupboard, then transferred the food onto them. By the time she had that done, Harm was standing next to her and took the plates over to what he had initially thought was simply a way to see into the kitchen was, he now realized, in fact a countertop that Rebecca used to eat from. A pair of barstools faced it, so he took one and waited for Rebecca to join him with a couple of glasses of wine.

"What's your baggage, Harm?" Rebecca asked as she joined him.

"Lots of different things. My father was probably the biggest for a long time, until I finally learned the truth. Then there was my ramp strike and Mace's death, Diane and her murder. For a while after her death, I tried not to let people get close to me, because it seemed like everyone who did I ended up losing."

"Who was Diane?"

"She was a classmate at the Academy and eventually a bit more than a friend," Harm said cryptically.

"A bit more?" Rebecca asked, realizing she was pushing but sensing something that needed to be brought out in the open.

"We were going to meet the weekend she was killed, see if we could figure that out. See, when we graduated from the Academy, she went to cryptography school and I went to flight school. Too much time apart, too much distance and things just drifted. Then, after my ramp strike, I went to law school and on to JAG. Finally, I thought, we had a chance. So, we were going away together to see if we really did."

"I'm sorry, Harm."

"So am I. It wasn't until after she was gone that I realized how much she meant to me," Harm said. "But, if things had been different, I never would have met you."

Rebecca gave him a little smile of gratitude, while reaching over.

"Saying I'm glad sounds so wrong, but I am. I didn't realize how much I was missing until I met you, Harm," she told him.

Harm just nodded at her before taking a drink from his glass and starting to eat again. Rebecca joined in, so that they each finished at roughly the same time. Rebecca collected the dirty plates, taking them to the sink to rinse off before loading them into the dishwasher. Harm, for his part, collected their glasses and the bottle of wine and took them into the living room. He put them on the end table, before sitting back down on the love seat.

Finished in the kitchen, she came out to join him. Snuggling up against him, she curled her legs underneath herself. Harm wrapped his arm around her, drawing her closer. Rebecca no longer even flinched at his touch, something that they both regarded as a major achievement, and she was even coming to welcome his close embrace.

The pair of them just sat this way for a long time, simply enjoying each other's company and relaxing. All too soon, though, it was time for Harm to leave. He planned to be back in the morning, however, for their flight back down to Washington and part two of the week.


	12. Chapter 12

March 9, 2004

Harmon Rabb's Loft – Washington, DC

1332 Eastern

Mac couldn't for the life of her explain what had drawn her here today. Her mind just had kept kicking up images of this place, so she had taken a half day. Fortunately, things at JAG were relatively slow at the moment, so the Admiral had been more than willing to grant her request. Besides, there was a new chief of staff at JAG now, so she was back to just being one of the lawyers.

Colonel Gordon Creswell had reported for duty on the first, along with a Lieutenant Greg Vukovic and a Lieutenant Catherine Graves. Creswell was there to replace Turner, Vukovic was Bud's replacement and Graves was there as additional help. Mac knew Creswell, it turned out, as he had been the JAG who invested her and Farrow's affair on Okinawa. However, he hadn't even hinted at remembering when they had been introduced, nor when they'd worked together on handing off the chief of staff duties.

As for Vukovic, she intended to keep her distance from the man. He'd already hit on her twice and he'd only been there a week, not to mention she thought he wasn't nearly as good of an attorney as his ego believed he was. She just hoped he'd be partnered with McBurney, rather than her.

Graves, on the other hand, was someone she wouldn't mind being partnered with. She seemed delighted to be assigned to headquarters and wanted to make the most of it. Also, she knew that she didn't know things and was not afraid to say so. Mac could appreciate that.

Bud and Harriet were now down in Key West, where Bud was the SJA while Harriet had decided to resign her commission and focus on being a stay-at-home mom. Their house was on the market, while they lived in base housing for the time being. Harriet's parents had been thrilled when they found out the grandkids were going to be so close and they had already taken them for a weekend. Harriet had taken to calling Mac a couple of times a week, just to keep each other up to date and have a girl-to-girl chat.

Bud was slowly settling in to his new post and he had an appointment to see a new doctor next week about some pains in his stump. Harriet hoped that he just needed a new prosthetic leg, rather than it being something more serious. Mac, for her part, had kept her peace. She had noticed he was having a little bit of difficulty back around Christmas and wondered how long her friend had been silently suffering.

The sound of a car turning down the alley brought Mac from her thoughts and she looked up. At first, her eyes couldn't or wouldn't believe what they were seeing. Then, it clicked and she was out of the car staring at the familiar Lexus. Only this time, it was towing a small trailer behind it. When it stopped, it was parked a garage down from where she knew Harm had stored his Corvette. Mac almost started towards the car, only to be stopped when both doors opened and two people got out.

It took Mac a long moment to recognize Harm. Gone was the clean shaven Commander and in his place stood a man with a full, if trimmed beard and longer hair that had a touch of gray in it. It was the eyes that were the key, though, as they were the same as always. That was when Mac noticed that they were locked on her and there was little warmth in them. She also noticed the woman that was with Harm had gone around the car and now stood next to him.

"Hello, Harm," she said, trying to ease the tension she sensed was building.

"What are you doing here, Mac?" Harm asked, wondering how she had ended up here at this moment.

"I don't know. Something just…."

Harm nodded at that. He'd seen and experienced first-hand her psychic gift and had no doubt that is what had drawn her here.

"Why'd you leave without saying goodbye?" Mac asked.

"I moved on, Mac. And yes, maybe I should have said goodbye when I left, but I've never been good at goodbyes," he told her.

"It didn't have to be goodbye, you know."

"Actually, I think it did. Mac, things changed. You're with Clay now and after Paraguay, I think we've reached the end of our road, at least for a while."

"And is this part of your moving on?" Mac asked, looking at Rebecca.

"I hope so. Doctor Rebecca Lawson, meet Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. Mac was my partner at JAG for almost 6 years. Rebecca is my girlfriend, Mac," Harm said pride.

"It's nice to meet you, Sarah," Rebecca said.

"You're a Doctor?"

"A Psychiatrist."

"Ah, was he one of your patients?" Mac asked with a grin that hinted she was joking.

"No. I actually thought he was a stalker, at first," Rebecca told her before launching into the story of how they had met.

Harm saw that the two were talking, so he went to the garage and opened it. When he and Rebecca had gotten in, he'd realized that he had made no plans to get his Indian motorcycle back to Pennsylvania. So, they had made a stop at a U-Haul and picked up the trailer. Now he went about loading the bike onto the trailer and securing it with the tie-down straps he'd gotten. Once he was satisfied, he went back into the garage and carried out his tool sets and some trunks he'd stored in there before finally closing the trailer.

Lastly, he backed the Corvette out of the garage. He was pleased to see that there was more than half a tank of gas in the car, so they could get well away from DC before having to stop. Turning the engine off, he got out of the car and walked over to the women. Mac's eyes widened when she saw Harm hand Rebecca the keys to the Corvette.

"It must be true love," she said with a smile.

"Why do you say that, Mac?" Harm asked.

"You're letting her drive your Corvette."

"Actually, I told him I'd only help if I got to drive the car back," Rebecca told her, smiling at Harm. "I was as shocked as you when he actually said alright."

"Don't let her fool you, Mac. I think she knows that she has me wrapped around her little finger."

Mac and Rebecca just shared a smile at that, as well as at the sight of Harm stealing a glance at his watch.

"You take care of him," Mac told Rebecca as she shook the other woman's hand.

"Count on it, Sarah."

Rebecca turned and went to the Corvette, giving Harm some space. She had sensed that there was more than just a friendship between the two of them, but it didn't feel like a relationship. A part of her was curious about what it actually was, yet she felt confident enough that Harm would tell her in his own time. For now, she'd let them say their goodbyes.

"Don't be a stranger, Harm. We all miss you."

"Mac…." Harm stopped, trying to gather his thoughts. There was so much he wanted to say, but couldn't say. In some ways, this was like Sydney Harbor all over again. Or the Guadalcanal or twenty other times over the last seven years. Finally, he gave up. "I can't promise that right now. For now, I need to get my life in order."

With that, Harm got into the Lexus and started the car. Mac could only watch as he drove off, followed by Rebecca. After standing there for a few minutes, she reluctantly got into her own car and headed for home.

Harmon Rabb's House – Belleville, Pennsylvania

1947 Eastern

Harm smiled to himself as he closed the barn doors. Both the Indian and the Corvette were safely tucked inside and he'd covered them. Along the one wall, he'd stored his tools and trunks. It would more than serve as a garage, considering he'd once had 'Sarah' in here.

Rebecca was waiting on the porch, sitting on the old swing. The weather was nice for this time of year, with the temperature in the upper 40s. So, she was bundled up in a flannel shirt and coat, along with jeans and hiking boots. Her outfit matched Harm's in every respect except he was wearing an old flight jacket with fur collar. When he climbed the steps, she patted the spot next to her and smiled.

"Why, thank you, Miss Rebecca. I will join you," Harm said with a grin.

"You're most welcome, Mister Rabb."

They looked at each other and laughed. The sun had already set, but there was still a little bit of light in the sky. Just enough to see the long meadow that stretched out before the house. They could also see Mister Winters trying to get one last row tilled before it became too dark for him to see.

"This is beautiful," Rebecca said after a few moments.

"Yes, it is."

"Is this where you want to spend the rest of your life?"

"I think so, Doc. This was more than enough for my grandmother and I'm finding that I enjoy teaching almost as much as I enjoyed being in the courtroom," Harm told her.

"I'm glad, Harm. I wouldn't mind spending my life here, either," Rebecca confessed quietly.

"Is that your way of trying to tell me something?"

"On the drive back from Washington, I had some time to think. And I realized that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you'll have me."

"What about…."

"This is my pace, Harm. I'm not saying we get married tomorrow or even next week. All I'm saying is that I love you," Rebecca said as she looked out over the fields.

"When did this all happen?" Harm asked, stunned by the change.

"In the car. As I said, I had some time to think. Mostly about you. How surprised I was that you didn't run screaming after learning about my past, how you've been patient and kind and considerate. Even when I could sense you wanting more, you've held back until I've signaled it was alright. And while I thought about that, I realized you were the one for me, if there ever was going to be a 'one'."

"I don't know what to say, Rebecca. I'm very touched. And I feel the same way about you, I love you."

With those words, Harm got up and went into the house. He climbed the stairs to his bedroom and opened the top drawer of the dresser. Underneath his socks was a small ring box, which he took out and opened. Smiling, he closed it and went back down to Rebecca. Getting down on one knee, he opened the box and removed the ring.

"Rebecca Lawson, will you marry me?" Harm asked as he took her hand in his.

"I will," Rebecca said as tears rolled down her cheeks. As she said those words, Harm slid the ring onto her finger. The little diamond sparkled in the porch light as she brought it up to look at.

"My dad gave that to my mom when he asked her to marry him. After she remarried, my mom gave that to me for the woman I would ask to marry me."

"It's perfect, as is the history it carries."

"My mom's going to be thrilled it's finally getting used," Harm said with a smile. "I think she'd resigned herself to never having a daughter-in-law."

"My parents will probably throw a celebration when I tell them," Rebecca said. "Although dad might be less than thrilled that I'm marrying a lawyer."

"Why's that?"

"He once said the only thing lower than a lawyer was a prostitute, but that sometimes he had trouble telling them apart."

"What does your father do?" Harm asked.

"He's a vice president at Bank of America," Rebecca told him. "Mom's the treasurer for the City of San Diego."

"And what about you sisters? What do they do?"

"Nothing, now. Both managed to marry successful guys and are stay at home moms. Jenny's husband is an engineer at LG Electronics, while Stacy's is a director at Kaiser Permanente. Stacy's daughter just started college at UCLA and Jenny's two are a high school junior and freshman respectively."

"Should I take that to mean we have some catching up to do?" Harm asked with an evil grin.

"Hell no!" Rebecca shouted at him. "Don't even think it, Mister."

"Power down, Doc. If we have kids, great. If not, then maybe we could look into adoption, if you want to do that. But whatever we do, we do together. Alright?"

Harm reached out and gently tilted Rebecca's face towards his. When he was looking in her eyes, he smiled that flyboy smile of his. Rebecca responded in kind, warmed and comforted by the love she saw in his eyes.

"Together," she whispered, caressing the word. "I like the sound of that."

"Good. Now, how about I start fixing us some dinner before I take you home," Harm said.

"You know, I do still have my bag in the back of your Lexus."

Harm's eyebrows rose at that. Each of them had packed a bag for the trip, just in case something had come up and delayed their return to the point of them needing to take a hotel for the night. Words wouldn't come, so he just looked at her for a long moment before nodding his head. His surprise and uncertainty must have been evident in his eyes, however, because Rebecca caught his hand before he could get up.

"Maybe you could fix up a guest room for me," Rebecca said.

"Of course."

Harm got up then, not knowing whether to be relieved or not. He was engaged to be married to a woman he'd never been intimate with. It was strangely old-fashioned in this modern age, he knew. Going inside, he went upstairs first and put some clean sheets on his old bed. That done, he went downstairs and into the kitchen to start on dinner. Today, he was feeling like mixing things up, so he decided on omelets and hash browns.

Rebecca came into the house and joined him in the kitchen. She got out the plates and settings, getting the table ready. She also removed a bottle of orange juice from the refrigerator after seeing what Harm was cooking. The plates she left next to Harm, however, since it would be easier for him to transfer the omelets directly from the skillet onto them.

Dinner was a mostly silent affair, with them simply enjoying each other's company. When they were finished, however, Harm saw Rebecca take her phone out of her purse. Raising an eyebrow, he silently asked who she was calling. She just smiled back at him, but moved her chair closer to his so that he could listen in.

"Hi, Beth. How are you?"

"I'm fine, Becca. How's your vacation going?" Beth asked back.

"Wonderful. Harm and I got his plane yesterday and then today we went back down and got his Corvette and some other things," Rebecca told her.

"Did he really let you drive his car all the way back?"

"He sure did. It was great, though I had to keep an eye on the speedometer. That little car is a rocket."

Beth laughed at that, catching something in her friend's voice. This was the happiest she could ever remember hearing Rebecca.

"What else, Becca?" Beth asked. "I can tell there's something."

"Well…."

"Spill it or I'll make sure Jim pulls you both over for speeding the next time you come to visit."

"I don't know when it will be, but sometime in the not too distant future I'm going to need a matron of honor. I was wondering…" was as far as Rebecca got before both of them heard a shout over the phone that sounded like "Oh my God".

"Beth!"

"He proposed?! What did he say, how did he do it? I want details, lady!" Beth demanded.

"Actually, I told him I loved him and he was speechless for a moment, then he said he loved me. We were sitting on the front porch and he went inside. When he came out, he got down on one knee with a ring in his hand and asked me to marry him," Rebecca told her.

"He already had the ring? How long has he been thinking about this?"

"It was actually the ring his father gave his mother when he asked her to marry him. After his mother remarried, she gave it to Harm for his future wife."

"Oh, Becca, that is so romantic. I'm so happy for you," Beth said. "I knew the first time I met him that he was a keeper."

"Really?" Rebecca asked. "What makes you say that?"

"The way he looked at you, I could see that he cared for you. And then after you told him, how careful he was with you. Not like you would break or something, but like you were something precious to him."

"Oh, Beth, you have no idea. I just feel so cared for when I'm with Harm."

"Is he there, Becca?" Beth asked, which got Rebecca to hand over the phone.

"Hi, Beth," Harm said.

"Congratulations, Harm. Jim will be thrilled when I tell him. When is the wedding going to be?"

"Thanks, Beth. And thank Jim too. As for the when, I'm leaving that up to Doc. I mean, isn't the bride-to-be supposed to do all the planning and the groom just shows up when and where he's told to?"

"Oh, no, Mister. You are going to be involved up to your neck," Beth said while Rebecca just glared at him.

"I'm sure I will. But, honestly, she and I haven't really talked things through that far yet. You're the first person we've called, even," Harm told her. "Still, if Rebecca agrees, I think a late summer wedding would be very nice."

"Where? Here or back in California?"

Harm just looked at Rebecca at that question. His personal preference would be here, but all of their families were out on the West Coast and would have to come all this way. Then, there was also the question of how big of a wedding did she want, which would also influence the location. If it was just going to be family, California was a definite. But, somehow he knew she would want her friends there as would he, which changed things a little.

"That's something else we'll need to decide, I guess. As far as I'm concerned, I want whatever Rebecca wants. Big wedding or small doesn't matter to me, as long as I'm marrying her."

"You're such a sweet talker, Harm," Beth said with a chuckle. "Or have you already figured out that surrender is best in this situation."

"I plead the fifth," Harm said, laughing. He really did just want whatever would make Rebecca happiest.

"Spoken like a true lawyer. Well, I've got work to do, so tell Becca to take care and I'll see her when she gets back from vacation."

"I will, Beth. Bye."

Once he had hung up the phone, Harm looked over at Rebecca and smiled.

"So, your family or mine next?" Rebecca asked.

"Definitely yours," Harm told her.

"I hate you," she whispered.

"What was that dear?"

"I said I hate you. Dad's going to have a million questions and Mom won't be much better."

"And you think my mother is going to be any different? Dream on, Doc," Harm said with a laugh. "Sorry, but you're going to be fully interrogated tonight, so brace yourself."

Rebecca just glared at him while she dialed the phone. She silently sighed when she heard her father's voice come over the line.

"Hi, Dad."

"Rebecca, how are you?" Her father was surprised to her from her, as she wasn't one to call home regularly.

"I'm good, Dad," Rebecca replied. "How are Mom and the rest of the family?"

"Your mother is at some charity event for the art museum. I had some work to do and couldn't go. As for your sisters, they're fine as far as I know."

"That's good."

"So, not that it's not great to hear from you, but what's on your mind?"

"You know Frank Burnett, don't you?"

"Sure, Frank and I golf together once or twice a week," her father said, his curiosity fully aroused now.

"Well, his step-son and I are engaged," Rebecca said, just coming out with it.

"Isn't his step-son a Navy flyer?"

"No, Dad. He's left the Navy."

"Please tell me he's not unemployed?" he asked.

"No, Dad. He actually teaches at Penn State now, which is where I met him," Rebecca told him, glossing over their real first meeting which brought a smile to Harm's face. She saw this and stuck her tongue out at him, making his smile even bigger.

"He's a professor?"

"An adjunct in the law school."

Rebecca pulled the phone from her ear, waiting for the explosion. And kept waiting for a few moments before putting the phone back to her ear.

"Dad? Dad?"

"He's a lawyer, Rebecca?"

"Yes, Dad. Harm is a lawyer," Rebecca told him.

"Why, oh why do you seem to delight in torturing me? I get you into UCLA and USC, you run off to Wisconsin. I get you a position in a prestigious medical practice here in San Diego, you run even farther away to Pennsylvania."

"Dad, we've had that fight before and I'm not having it again, please. I want to make it on my own merits, not because you bought it for me. Maybe Jenny and Stacy could accept that, I just couldn't."

"You were a headstrong little girl and you're still as headstrong now," her father said. "Maybe you need a lawyer as your husband, just so he has a chance at out arguing you. Let me talk to him, please?"

Rebecca quickly handed the phone over to Harm.

"Hello, Mister Lawson," Harm said.

"You're at least more polite than most lawyers, I'll give you that. But if you're marrying my little girl, you can call me Don," he said.

"Thank you, Sir."

"You're welcome, Harm. Tell me, how long have you known my daughter?"

"Three months now," Harm confessed.

"And you're really sure you want to marry her, after only three months?" Don asked.

"I know I want to spend the rest of my life with her, Sir."

"And there isn't some other reason you're in a hurry, is there?"

"No, Sir. We haven't been intimate, if that's what you're hinting at," Harm told him.

"Have you told your mom and Frank yet?" Don asked.

"No. We called you first, then we'll call them."

"Well, you'll have to try their cell phones, because they're at the same event as my wife."

"Which event is that?" Harm asked.

"Something to fund a new exhibit at the museum. My wife pays more attention to the what, I just show up when she tells me to and try to smile," Don confessed.

"If they're at the museum, mom won't have her cell and neither will Frank. I'll have to call them in the morning."

"No, that definitely won't work, Harm."

"Why not, Sir?" Harm asked, puzzled.

"Because as soon as my wife get home and I tell her, she'll be on the phone immediately to your mother and from there half of La Jolla will know in about two hours," Don said with a laugh. "And before you ask, there is no way that I can keep this from my wife."

Harm sighed at that, knowing how true that statement was. On the other end of the phone, Don Lawson was doing some quick thinking.

"What's the nearest airport to you, Harm?"

"Either Mifflin or University Park in State College."

"Alright, how long for you and my daughter to get to the airport?" Don asked.

"Say an hour and a half, just to give us time to pack," Harm said.

"I'll have a private jet at University Park in two hours ready to bring you out here. I'll stall until you two magically appear tomorrow morning."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, Harm. Not until after you get done telling your mother and my wife," Don said with a laugh as he hung up the phone.

Harm just looked at Rebecca who had been listening in on the conversation. Tears shone in her eyes as she smiled at him. Harm pulled her close and kissed her cheek.

"Dad seems to have warmed to you," Rebecca said.

"I'm glad. I don't want to be a source of tension between you and your family," Harm told her.

"The only member of my family whose opinion about us really matters is mine and I love you."

Harm just looked at Rebecca for a moment before shaking his head and getting up from his seat. He went upstairs to pack a bag for the flight, while also trying to decide on what to wear and how much to take. In the end, he packed a pair of suits along with some slacks and shirts, then socks and underwear. He did throw in a couple of t-shirts and shorts, hoping the weather would be nice enough for him to go running at least once.

Bringing his bag down, he saw that Rebecca already had her jacket on. So, he grabbed his and they left the house. Harm locked the door while Rebecca got into the Lexus. Once he was in the driver's seat, they were off.


	13. Chapter 13

March 10, 2004

Lawson House – La Jolla, California

0843 Pacific/ 1143 Eastern

Harm and Rebecca had spent much of the five hour flight sleeping on the private jet. Before doing so, however, they had come up with a plan for the following day. Since her father already knew the new and they weren't certain whether he would tell her mother or not, they would go to her parents' house first. After that, they would visit with Harm's mom and Frank and break the news to them.

The first change in the plan came immediately upon landing, when Harm had looked at his watch and realized how early it was. Somehow, he doubted that either of their families would enjoy being awoken at four in the morning. Yet, Mister Lawson had been well ahead of them on that, as a car was waiting when they taxied to the FBO office and deplaned. The driver gathered Harm's and Rebecca's bags and put them in the trunk after holding the rear door open for them.

From the airport, they were taken to a hotel. The desk staff had evidently been made aware of their late arrivals, as a bellman was waiting to escort them to their suite once they had checked in. Harm had been slightly worried about the single room until they got there and he saw the size of the suite, as well as the two bedrooms it contained. The bellman's eyebrow had risen slightly when he was instructed on where to put which bags and Rebecca had to stifle a smile at that.

Both of them had laid down for a brief nap before getting ready for the day to come. Harm had been the first one finished with his shower and he called the desk to see about car rental places in the area, so that they could drive over to her parents. The desk manager told him that a car had already been arranged for them and he could collect the keys at any time. Harm was curious about how much this was all costing Rebecca's father, but also wise enough not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Harm decided on a suit and tie for today, certain that one or both of their families would want to go out to celebrate the news. When he came out into the living space of the suite, he was pleased to see that Rebecca was dressed up as well. Her red hair contrasted vibrantly with the blue and purple floral print dress she was wearing, while the ring on her finger managed to catch the light just right as she added a string of pearls to her outfit.

"You look amazing," Harm said as he came up behind her.

"You don't look too bad yourself," Rebecca replied before brushing a kiss across his cheek. She then wiped the mark left by her lipstick off.

"Your father had a car left for us."

"I figured he would. I'm ready when you are."

Harm held his arm out for her to take and escorted her out of the suite. Together, the couple walked to the elevator and went down to the lobby. Rebecca waited as Harm collected the keys to the car as well as where it was parked. He almost need not have asked, as the car stood out and Harm smiled devilishly as they approached it. He was quite certain this was Mister Lawson's personal car and wondered what Frank thought of it.

The green Mercedes Benz had been parked in a reserved spot near the door to the parking garage. Harm decided to let Rebecca drive, since she knew the way to her parents' house. The drive wasn't overly long and Harm recognized the area as being fairly close to his mom's house. At the gate, she pressed the button on the visor and waited for them to open before driving up to the house. Two large dogs came around the side of the house, barking happily when they saw Rebecca get out of the car.

"Good boys," Rebecca said as they sat down in front of her, their tails wagging a mile a minute. "Rocco, Dozer, good boys."

The dogs were incredibly obedient, not once going to jump up at her. Harm smiled as he came around to join her, at which point the dogs backed away and started to growl a little.

"Boys, behave," came a snap from the doorway, which caused the dogs heads to instantly turn in that direction. Harm's head went that way too, to see a short, thin woman walking towards him. Her red hair was tinged with gray, but he instantly knew this was Rebecca's mother. He also recognized her as one of his mother's friends.

"So, Harmon. You're intending to marry my sweet baby girl?" she asked as she got near.

"Yes, Ma'am, I am."

"Well, Don was right. You are more polite than most lawyers."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Harm said.

"You can lay off the 'Ma'am', alright? I'm Rose. Now, bend down here so I can give you a proper welcome," Rose told him. Harm bent down for the hug Rose gave him, returning it as well.

"It's about time you found somebody, child. And you know, when Don told me last night who it was, I laughed. Only you would have to go clear across the country to find a man and that man grew up not five minutes from here."

"Well, in her defense, by the time either of us were ready to find that someone, we were both long gone from here, Rose," Harm said.

"That's true, I guess," Rose told him with a grin. "I think you could have gotten in trouble if you'd asked her to marry you the last time you lived at home. I mean, you were 18 and she was 13."

Rebecca and Harm laughed at that as they all walked up to the doorway.

"Now that you're finally here, we can celebrate."

"Indeed, Harm," came a voice that stopped Harm in his tracks in surprise.

"Mom? What are you doing here?" Harm asked.

"Sorry, but as soon as I told Rose, she insisted on calling Trish and I couldn't stop her," Don explained from his seat in the couch.

"Lucky for you that Don had a good excuse for you not calling," Frank said as he and Don both stood up to greet them. "Otherwise, this might have been a hanging party."

"Hush, Frank," Trish said as she approached Harm and Rebecca. "I'm so happy for you both, darling, although I think you're getting the better deal than Rebecca is. Has she discovered all your faults yet?"

"If he didn't have faults, he wouldn't be the man I love, Mrs. Burnett," Rebecca said loyally.

"It's Trish, dear. Or even Mom, if you'd like. Mrs. Burnett makes me sound like the wicked mother-in-law of fame and legend."

"Thank you, Trish."

"The same goes for me, Rebecca. It's Frank, alright," Frank said as he came up to her. "Welcome to the family."

"Thanks, Frank."

"Congratulations, Harm."

"Thanks, Frank," Harm told him as they shook hands.

"Have you planned anything yet?" Trish asked, as she and Rose led Rebecca to one of the couches.

"No. We only decided last night," Rebecca said.

"And how did he propose, dear?"

"Was it romantic?" Rose asked.

"We were sitting on the front porch just after sunset and I mentioned wanting to spend the rest of my life there. And I told Harm I loved him and he said he loved me too. Then he got up and went inside and when he came back, he had a ring with him. He got down on one knee and asked me if I would marry him and I said I would."

"That's the ring?" Trish asked, certain it was. "May I see it?"

Rebecca lifted her hand and took off the ring. She handed it to Trish who held it up and looked inside and saw that the engraving was still there after all these years. A tear came to her eyes as she read the words again. 'Love is eternal, HR'.

Rebecca gently took the ring and looked at it as well, before fixing her future mother-in-law with a teary smile and handing the ring to her mother. Frank got up and walked out of the room, followed by Don and Harm. The three men went outside to give the women a few moments.

"Do you know what's inscribed inside the ring, Harm?" Frank asked.

"I never looked," Harm confessed.

"You dad had the words 'Love is eternal' put there, along with his initials. When we were dating, your mother showed me that. She felt she was breaking the promise in the message. It took her a long time to realize she could love him and still love me too."

"Frank…" was all Harm could really think of to say for a moment. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. My eyes were wide open when I began dating your mother. I knew she still loved your dad. I just hoped she'd come to love me as much in time," Frank said, laying a hand on Harm's shoulder.

Back inside the house, the ladies had gathered themselves after reading the special inscription in the ring. Now, Rose and Trish were talking with Rebecca about all the wedding details that would need to be taken care of. The biggest of them was of course setting the when and where. Rebecca begged off, wanting Harm involved in that decision, though she did mention his comment about late summer.

"Oh, we could definitely have everything ready by August or September," Rose said.

"And I'm certain we could have the reception at the country club if you did have the wedding out here," Trish added. "If it was in Pennsylvania, you and Harm would have to figure that out, I think, since you both know the area better than we do."

"Have you thought about how big you want the wedding to be, dear?"

"I was thinking small, actually. Just family and close friends, not extravagant," Rebecca said.

"So, we could do it at our church here," Rose said.

"Actually, if we did it here, I was thinking outdoors."

"That sounds nice to me," Harm said as he and the other men came back into the room. "We could even have it all outside, the wedding and reception."

"How about if we have the wedding in Pennsylvania, Harm? What then?" Rebecca asked.

"Same thing. There's about five acres around the house that aren't farmed, so we could set up big tents for the wedding and reception out there."

"All of your family is out here, wouldn't it make more sense to have the wedding here?" Don asked.

"But our friends are all back East and we want them at the wedding too."

"We can get them out here, no problem."

"We'll think about it, Don," Harm said as Rebecca nodded.

"That's all I ask," Don said. "Now, I know it's a little early, but let's have a little champagne and properly celebrate this."

Once everyone had been served a glass, the parents toasted their children, reflecting on their good fortune that the families had been friends for almost twenty years now. Trish and Rose had been the first, meeting when the later came by the gallery one afternoon. Their mutual interest in art had led to long talks and lunches together, then to dinners with their respective husbands. For Don and Frank, it had been golf that had strengthened their friendship.

Hotel del Coronado – Coronado, California

2003 Pacific / 2303 Eastern

The day had been taken up with talk about the wedding, with both of Rebecca's sisters coming over to offer their assistance. Sensing that they would only be in the way, Don and Frank had decided to go golfing. They had tried to take Harm with them, but one look from the ladies had ended that thought. So, he had spent the day helping to plan his wedding, at least as much as could be planned without knowing where it would be.

Now, the whole family had gone out to dinner at the Hotel del Coronado, which had some wonderful restaurants and views. When his mother had suggested it, Harm had almost instantly suspected an ulterior motive than simply enjoying the food. Both mothers had been strongly hinting at having the wedding in California and not in Pennsylvania, leaving him to wonder if this was just another attempt to influence the decision.

Seating at the table had been arranged so that Harm and Rebecca were at opposite ends. Harm found himself seated between Jenny and Stacy, who had Frank and Trish next to them respectively. Then came Don and Rose, followed by their sons-in-law and then Rebecca. At least he could smile lovingly at her, in between making small talk with her sisters now that dinner was done.

"So, you're a pilot and a lawyer, Harm?" Jenny asked.

"Actually, I'm a teacher currently."

"That's right, you teach at the college Rebecca teaches at. Are you going to have her stop once you get married?" Stacy asked.

"No. She enjoys what she does and I have no intention of asking her to stop," Harm said.

"But if she gets pregnant…."

"I've met a number of working mothers over the years. Why should Rebecca be any different?"

"Well, I suppose it's a matter of money," Stacy said with a wink. "They don't pay much, do they?"

"Not as much as I could earn in the private sector, I suppose, but it's more than enough for our needs," Harm told them.

"And you live on a farm?" Jenny asked, curious about that.

"I do. It's been in the family for generations."

"Do you have cows and chickens and such?"

"No, I let one of the neighbors farm the land. I just live in the house and have a few acres around it, for some space. He pays me a share of the profits," Harm told her.

"What's it like living that far away from a big city, Harm?" Jenny asked.

"Very peaceful. The view is wonderful, especially at sunrise or sunset. The neighbors all know your name and say hello when they see you. It's just really nice there."

"And how does Rebecca feel about it?"

"Before I proposed, she told me she wanted to spend the rest of her life there."

"I think, Harm, that she looks happier than I can remember seeing her look in a long time," Jenny told him.

Harm looked down the table to Rebecca and caught her smiling at him, then mouthing something. It took him a moment to catch it, when he did he smiled back at her and mouthed "I love you too." Then he saw her tilting her head to the side, towards a door outside. So, he got up and walked down to her side.

"We're going to go outside for a short walk," Rebecca said as she stood.

"Have fun," Stacy's husband Carl said with a grin and wink for Harm.

"We're just going for a walk," Harm replied coolly.

"Yeah, right," came a muttered response.

Harm took Rebecca's hand and led her outside.

"Thank God," Rebecca said once the doors had closed. "I needed to get away from him. All through dinner, he kept asking about you and me. When we're going to have kids and have we, you know, already started on that. When I said we hadn't, he just laughed and did that 'Yeah, right' of his."

"Don't let him spoil you enjoying the day. This is our day, just as much as our wedding day will be," Harm told her as he led her down the stairs and onto the lawn that led to the beach.

The lights from the resort provided more than enough illumination for the couple to make their way. About halfway across the lawn, Harm stopped and just stood there looking at the scenery. He was trying to picture it in late summer.

"Harm?"

"Just wondering how warm it would be out here in say late August."

"So, you've decided against the wedding in Pennsylvania," Rebecca said with a frown.

"Not yet. Right now, I'm still in planning mode. But, you have to admit this is a beautiful spot for a wedding," Harm told her.

"I think it might be too hot."

"Perhaps, but the ocean breezes might cool things too."

"Maybe," was all she said as she walked closer to the beach.

"Do you have your heart set on getting married in Pennsylvania, is that it?" Harm asked.

"No. It just feels like this is something our parents are pushing on us, rather than our choice."

"Look at me, Rebecca."

Rebecca turned to face her fiancé, tilting her head up to meet his eyes.

"I want whatever makes you happiest. If getting married in the middle of a desert was it, then saddle up the camels. So, if getting married out here doesn't do it, then we politely tell our parents that. If getting married in Pennsylvania isn't your dream either, then tell me what is," Harm told her.

"I think what I like best about getting married at the farm is the connection to you and your family and the history that the farm represents," Rebecca said. "But you're asking what my dream is and my dream is to be married on the beach at sunset."

"If I'm not mistaken, there's a beach right there and the sun sets right there, out over the water."

"But what about our friends? How are they going to come?"

"Your dad offered to fly them out here, remember," Harm said.

"Well, in that case," Rebecca said with an evil grin.

"Now, Rebecca, you are not inviting the entire faculty of Penn State to our wedding. Nor the staff of the hospital."

"Soil sport. Can I at least hint at it?"

Harm laughed at that, as did Rebecca before they turned back to the hotel and made their way back to the restaurant. Going back inside, they saw that only their parents remained waiting for them. So, they told them about their decision. Harm was certain he caught a satisfied smile cross his mother's face at the news, if only for a moment or two.


End file.
